Three Redheads and a Spider
by Rye-bread
Summary: A mother daughter beauty contest in the Big Apple. throw in Richard Lionheart, Mr. and Mrs. Spiderman, Doc Ock. could things get any more confused? a Coeur de Lion story.
1. Chapter 1

It was the last day of the Middleton High school year. It was hardly worth coming to school, except for the tradition of saying farewell for the summer. Kim and Ron were walking through the halls hand in hand to the next class, not in any particular hurry, when they saw the Tara and Bonnie.

"Kimmm!" Tara wailed; "I'll miss you!"

"Taraaaa!" returned Kim.

"Oh--my--God!" groused Bonnie; "It's not the end of the world; you guys will be seeing each other every day at the mall."

Ron took it all in stride. Of course the girls would lament not seeing each other over the summer, especially the close-knit cheerleading squad--except for that sour grape, Bonnie Rockwaller; and the pleasure he took in her bad humor more than made up for Kim's momentary absence from his side.

"Hey, Bonnie, give Brick a kiss for me." It was a silly thing to say; he could have kept quiet, but the glare Bonnie gave him was so satisfying. Kim's affection had given Ron Stoppable a self-confidence he never knew he was capable of; he no longer needed to whine or moan or cower in the presence of the Popular Crowd, or Posse, or whatever the food chain was called now. His head was in the clouds, and his heart was in Kim's safekeeping, and he felt like a giant among men.

The public address announced overhead: "Kim Possible, please report to the Principal's office." It was Barkin's voice; did he substitute for _everything_? Would they one day see him slinging a mop or ladling food in the cafeteria serving line?

Kim's eyes widened in confusion; she glanced from Tara to Bonnie to Ron, who was at a loss himself how to explain the page.

"Kimmie's in trouble; I gotta see this!" Bonnie was gleeful again.

Ron offered his arm, and off the little group went to the office.

Someone was waiting to meet Kim--someone well-known.

Mr. Barkin was looking stern with crossed arms and furrowed brows. "Miss Watson, I'm sure you appreciate that this _is_ a public school and not a motion picture being shot on location. Fortunately, being as it's the last day of the school year, your presence does not represent a significant disruption of the daily activities."

"Mr. Barkin, your hospitality and generosity in allowing me to interrupt both your and Miss Possible's day will not go unappreciated with the people I represent. I want to thank you for all your courtesy." The woman extended a slender hand and warmly shook his hand; his mouth suddenly gaped open.

Kim, Ron, Tara, and Bonnie stared; they were astounded; the gruff teacher had never been so star-struck. The woman's voice was sweet and gracious, and could have charmed a smile from a stone statue; it was also strangely familiar. From the back, she was about Ron's height, but dressed in what appeared to be a woman's Armani suit; certainly Middleton High had hardly seen the like--and her hair was as long as--and as bright as--Kim's.

She turned--and the four students all micmiced Barkin's astonished facial expression. Not only was the face famous, the smile was as bright and dazzling as the full moon--as bright as Kim's, thought Ron.

"Miss Kimberly Ann Possible--and Mr. Ronald Stoppable--meeting you both is an additional pleasure; my name is Mary Jane Watson."

They had already known that, the very split-second they had seen her face.


	2. Chapter 2

It was on the night of the Middleton H.S. Junior Prom, under the porch light of the Possible home, with the entire Possible family (even the tweebs) peering through the curtains, that they beheld Ron take Kim into his arms, and give her a long and lingering kiss. Jim and Tim snickered; Dr. Mom raised her forefinger to them and gave then a silent warning glare. Dr. Dad frowned, pointed to his wristwatch, and tilted his head toward the young lovers; he got the same warning glare; and with a knowing smile, she gazed contentedly, savoring the moment.

Kim whispered into Ron's ear the words of the song: "You were there all along;" and something extra: "You've won my heart, Ron Stoppable." It wasn't quite "I love you," but it had the same effect: his heart soared to the sky; he walked among the gods.

Ron was transformed; he might piss and moan with others, but from that night and thereafter, he never had a pity party with Kim again.

Kim was transformed, too; Drakken had taunted her about "boys, boys, boys"; Bonnie had taunted her about "the loser"; but someone else had told her, "People look on the outward appearance; true wisdom looks on the heart;"

Her fear of the pecking order, the "food chain", had utterly died away.

At least once a day now, Ron would wink at her, or squeeze her hand, or give her a quick kiss, or hug, or any combination of the above, and whisper, "There's only one K.P., and I'm the guy who won her heart; booyah." It was a sign between them, an acknowledgement: each was the other's "special someone."

--and it served him well today.

Mary Jane Watson; internationally known fashion model and noted actress of stage and screen; in Middleton; in the high school; an arm's length from them; calling them by name. The four students and one teacher gazed transfixed; she was drop-dead gorgeous, had charisma, _and_ radiated genuine warmth.

On an impulse Kim glanced up at Ron, to her side and slightly behind; would he fall for this siren goddess has he once did for Tara and Zita? Ron felt her glance, and glanced back; he smiled, squeezed her hand, and mouthed the word, "Booyah." Assurance filled her heart, love filled her eyes, and she squeezed his hand back.

Barkin cleared his throat. "Miss Watson, I'd like to introduce Tara Sweetwater, Bonnie Rockwaller, Ron Stoppable, and Kim Possible."

Mary Jane smiled winningly and shook all their hands in turn: "I'm pleased to meet you; I've seen the videos of the Cheerleading Regionals, and I think you _all_--and I mean this--_rock_--even the Mascot;" and she winked at Ron. The girls flushed with pride; Ron's ears turned red. "And of course Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable need no introduction; you two literally saved the civilized world; I can tell you that both the Fantastic Four and the Avengers had their hands full dealing with the enlarged Diablos in New York City; she did not add: her husband had literally saved their lives, dealing with a Diablo within the four walls of their home. "That's it!" he would say after the battle; "No more fast food toys in this house--I'd sooner have a J. Jonah Jameson cuddlebuddy!"

Kim and Ron both felt a wave of awe that left them overwhelmed; the Little Diablo battle had made their names household words around the world; congratulatory phone calls had come from Washington, London, Paris, Rome, Moscow, Cairo, New Delhi, Beijing, and Tokyo. James Timothy Possible and Abraham Stoppable had jointly engaged the services of a New York publicity firm; but to be compared to the defenders of the planet left them breathless with wonder.

Mary Jane smiled her dazzling smile once more; "And now, to matters at hand; Miss Possible, I'm in town to personally escort you and your mother to New York tomorrow morning to begin the week long shoot for the first episode of our reality-based television series. I took the liberty of stopping by to just informally make your acquaintance."

Kim looked blankly at Mary Jane; she was aware of an uncomfortable delay while she tried to marshal her thoughts: (speak, Kimmie, speak; and don't say "uhh.")

"Uhh--" (Bad girl, Kimmie, bad girl.) "--Miss Watson, I'm--"; more dead air; (Mother, what's going on? this sounds worse than those blind dates you fixed me up with.) She was _so_ getting tweaked.

"Please, call me 'Mary Jane'." Mary Jane carefully watched Kim; something was wrong; she was not acting like a reality-based television show participant should be acting.

"Uhh--" (_Kim!_ she told herself.) She breathed; time for candor; she already looked ignorant. "Mary Jane, I need to level with you--"

"Mary Jane! Mary Jane! My mother and I would make an _ideal_ addition to your cast!" Bonnie was as canny as a shark and as subtle as a wrecking ball.

Mary Jane Watson had been a celebrity interviewer as well as an actress and model; she knew how to read people; she didn't want to be unkind, but words like "bottom feeder" and "social climber" came to mind as she watched Bonnie Rockwaller. Kim needed rescuing. "Mr. Barkin, in retrospect you might be right; even the last day of school isn't the proper venue to discuss certain matters. Kim, why don't I talk with you and your mother later today? Miss--Rockwaller, we're always looking for new faces; here's my card with the phone number of my personal manager; why don't you have your mother contact her and we'll keep in touch for our future projects." And she deftly handled the situation and all its participants.

She took Kim aside; "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Kim shook her head somewhat despondently. Mary Jane felt the slow burn inside turning to infuriation; the network had dropped the ball. "Well, where do I start? To make a long story short, the major television network wants to capitalize on the success of the "reality-based" shows, in particular shows like "The Next Top Fashion Model"; you and your mother have been chosen to be participants, based, of course, on _your_ star quality as one of the country's most recognized teenagers, and your mother's status as a prominent neurosurgeon. _I _was signed on to be the highly visible celebrity spokesperson and to assist in the show's production. I was proceeding on the network's reassurances that it was keeping in constant touch with all the prospective contestants." She tried to explain as succinctly as she could the show's format: like the other reality-based shows, it would have multiple contestants participating in competitive events, with an elimination round at the end of every episode.

She shook her head ruefully: "I should know better, being in the business this long. Kim, I am so sorry; obviously my people have entirely neglected you; you and your mother should have been completely prepped by now: script, wardrobe, accommodations; let me guess: this is the first you've heard about this."

Kim nodded.

"And you have no agent, no legal representation, no personal assistant."

Kim shook her head; she was used to a sense of control and competency; she felt completely snowed under.

Mary Jane felt rivers of sympathy for Kim; she herself had already navigated the minefield of celebrity modeling, and she would move heaven and earth to keep one more girl from being eaten alive. She thought for a moment; "Kim, I know this must seem like an absolute last minute rush; I would like you to seriously consider participating in this show--and I don't say that for the sake of the studio bosses. Being a model isn't just for the egocentric anorexic bimbos, pardon my language; for the girl who can keep her head on straight--and I know you're one of those--it opens doors, both financially and vocationally. This one project alone could generate income in residuals and endorsements that would more than pay for your entire college education; and I would be more than happy to point out the right agents, the right offers, and so on; but the big thing is, do you want to do this."

The wheels in Kim's head started to turn: a challenge; she so loved a challenge; competition; to outdo, outshine, wipe out the rivals; she could feel the tug; there was a time she would have jumped at the chance; to ascend the food chain, to enlarge the social circle, to meet boys--whoa, hit the brakes. She was starting to sound Bonnie to herself; still... "Mary Jane, I'm not sure--"

"Well, let me say this; I've seen you in public interviews; I'm impressed with your poise and confidence; I know you can think on your feet by your crime fighting record; your website says that you 'can do anything'; now, let me ask you; how would you feel about working twenty-hour days for the next week, while you get to wear overpriced designer originals, reshoot scene after scene, subject yourself to humiliating criticism from a panel of judges that include myself, all in the most famous city in the world--with your mother, of course."

"Could I bring a--guest?"

Mary Jane nodded: "Absolutely; and for neglecting you, I'm sure the network will gladly pay for the most luxurious accommodations; hotel room with a view, in-room Jacuzzi, reservations at the five-star restaurant, the works;" oh, yes; the network would treat this girl right; Mary Jane would see to that.

Kim hugged Ron's arm: "Oh, Ron; New York City! Even with my schedule, the sights, the places we could go, the time together..."

"Uh, K.P.--remember? Tomorrow? Summer job? Bueno Nacho? Pop Pop Porter?"

Kim's face--and heart--fell; she had complete forgotten. Drakken had embezzled millions in his brief tenure as C.E.O. of Bueno Nacho to build his Little Diablos, and the adverse publicity following the Night of Rampage (as the media was calling the Little Diablos running amok) had left the once profitable Bueno Nacho Restaurant chain on the ropes financially. Pop Pop Porter, the fast food entrepreneur, had bought out the entire franchise, _and_, in a canny publicity coup, had personally contacted and hired Ronald Stoppable as the day manager for the Middleton store; Ned would teach him the trade; Pop Pop had sweetened the deal with a raise that had made Ned's eyes pop.

The wise old fast food baron knew the value of good publicity; his folksy, aw-shucks image had made people feel like they were dealing with an old country store shopkeeper when they bought his products; and hiring the inventor of the naco, Drakken's conqueror, to help rebuild the formerly beloved family eatery, made excellent publicity. Ron had seen this as his opportunity to grow into responsibility, drawing on his natural love of preparing food, a stepping stone to a career, a future, the chance to be a good provider for a wife--and family; it was one more thing to make Kim glow with pride.

And it started tomorrow. "K.P., you know that your wish is my command; this job could be the start of our future; but you tell me to, and I'll fly to New York, flapping my arms." The "flapping arms" was a typical Ron-ster comment, and it made her chortle; the "our future" and "you tell me to" parts made her tingle down to her toes; but, oh, the sting of disappointment.

"No; I love it that you would bail for me, but you gave Pop Pop your word. I guess it's just me and Mom--my mother--"

Kim started to seethe and looked back at Mary Jane. "You say that the network would have already called my mom?"

"Kim--let me say something personal--I see where you're going, but I want to say this," cautioned Mary Jane, "You should give your mother the benefit of the doubt. First of all, she's a prominent neurosurgeon; I'm sure she was thing of some quality time with her daughter when she consented to accept the network's offer; you both have had a busy spring: her husband kidnapped by Dr. Drakken, her daughter kidnapped by Drakken, her daughter's boyfriend one of the bad guys, and an android, at that; and of course, the Prom. Now I'm not related to a super-hero--" (she bit her tongue) "--but I am a career mother, and try as I might, I still make mistakes."

"Mary Jane--I so need time--can I get back to you?"

"Don't worry; talk to your mom and then call me. I'm familiar with the Little Diablo adventure; I'm not surprised that there's some confusion about this. You're not under obligation to do this project. Now..." she motioned her head toward Ron and smiled; "...go and enjoy that last day of school."

Kim nodded gratefully. Mary Jane watched wistfully as the two went down the hall, arms around each other. "Mr. Barkin, ladies," she shook the hands of Middleton's perennial substitute teacher, Bonnie, and Tara, "If you'll pardon me, I'll be on my way."

As soon as they was out of sight of Mary Jane Watson, Ron peppered Kim with questions; "K.P., when did this come up? You and your mom on TV? Booyah!" He was irrepressible. Kim regarded him wearily and pulled out her Kimmunicator. "No booyah?" He was disappointed. "No booyah," she said flatly, shaking her head. "Hello, Wade, pick up, I'm in a sitch."

Wade appeared on the little screen, sipping from his ever-present super-sized soft drink and straw. "Hey, Kim, I've been monitoring the chatter; is it true? You and your mom will be on a TV series?"

"No, Wade, it is so not true; patch me through to Mom's office, please." Kim was not in the mood to tolerate any delay on her cell phone; she wanted to be updated, _now._

Mrs. Smith, the receptionist, answered: "Hello, this is the Tri-City Neurosurgery Consortium; how may we help you?" Kim admired the fact that that her mother and the other partners in the practice still used a human receptionist and not an automated answering service.

"Mrs. Smith, it's Kim; is my mom able to take my call?"

"Hello, Kim; your mother is in surgery; I'll put you right through." Just like usual.

The phone rang in the operating room; the circulating nurse answered; "Yes, Kim, your mother's still with the patient; I'll put you on overhead; Dr. Possible, it's Kim."

The mood of the room lightened. Dr. Possible's staff looked forward to these calls; they loved discussing Kim's life and planning her future.

"Kimmie, dear, how are you?" Dr. Possible was deftly suturing the wound closed.

"Motherrr;" the slow smolder; the voice dripped with acid; this was more than just the usual indignant call.

"KImmie--what is it?"

"Mother--I was contacted today by Mary Jane Watson."

Dr. Possible stopped in mid-stitch; memory, and regret, came flooding like a tidal wave "Oh dear." The chagrin on her face was plain.

"She paid a personal visit to the high school."

"Oh dear." It was getting worst by the second.

"She said she wanted to personally escort us to New York City--"

"Kimmie--"

"--tomorrow."

"Dear--I'm so sorry--it really did slip my mind--what with the prom-- and Erik Drake--and Drakken--I thought this would be a wonderful opportunity to unwind, spend some quality time--"

"That's what Mary Jane said I should keep in mind--oh yes--Ron can't come--his summer job starts tomorrow--that's not your fault, but it doesn't help my attitude."

"Kimmie-can we discuss this tonight over supper?" The tone of entreaty was plain.

"That's another thing, Mom--I'm having supper with my Team at Bueno Nacho--I want their advice--I'll be home later tonight. The flat tone of finality--and she hung up.

The mood was considerably more somber than it had been a moment before.

"Dr. Possible, we're done," the surgical assistant gently reminded her.

"Could you close, please--I should get to the office to see the patients."

"Sure."

They noticed how dejected she was; the customary twinkle in her eyes and lilt in her voice was gone as she took off her surgical gown and left the room.

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 3

I confess: I am a super-hero geek. Almost all of the details in this chapter were gathered from years of browsing comics, both DC and Marvel (or Gold Key), at the newsstand, in the drugstore, bookstore, my own collection, the neighbor kids' collections (who always seemed more extensive than mine).

I tried to be accurate to the comic book canon. Sometimes the details change over the years as the characters undergo revision or are updated. If my memory got foggy, I would fudge a little. Except for the manner of Aunt May's death and daughter May's birth. That's all mine.

Aunt May's letter to Mary Jane is taken from her monologue to Peter in the movie Spider-man 2.

I thought the origin of Wade's name was clever; tell me if I'm wrong.

Most everything I wrote about belongs to DC Comics, Marvel Comics, or Disney. I would be hard-pressed to separate them all.

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

_**NEW YEAR'S EVE, DECEMBER 31, 1999**_

_**NEW YORK CITY**_

The world was celebrating the beginning of a new millennium. There was an exclusive party on the observation deck of the Empire State Building. The crowd was festive--except for a young couple by the railing.

The actress Mary Jane Watson and her husband were there by special invitation. Mary Jane was dressed in her black silk formal and a faux fur. Peter Parker was in black tie. It was a mild winter night, with the temperature in the mid 30's. There was a bite in the air at that elevation. Mary Jane shivered, despite her fur. Her heart had never been lower. Peter shrugged off the cold as though it were a cool summer night. His superhuman strength enabled him to endure a great many things--except this.

"Petey, this won't work. We've given it all the effort. I'll always love you. But my heart can't stand any more," said Mary Jane in a teary voice.

"M.J., on tonight of all nights. It's the start of a new time. We could start out fresh--just like the rest of the world. Please, give us another chance," said Peter in a teary voice.

"Petey--what's going to change? You'll always be what you are. You'll always feel the suffering of the world. No. Your Uncle Ben was right. 'With great power comes great responsibility.' And you can't be less than what you are. That why I love you. And I thought I could stand it with you--the worry, the danger. Sharing you with those who need you. But I can't. I'm not that strong."

The wind wafted her thick red hair. Peter's eyes were grim as he fixed his gaze on the horizon.

"I'm flying out to Hollywood the day after New Year's. There's a movie offer," said Mary Jane in a low even voice. "I'll stay with some friends tonight. Marcie and Lisa. We did that airline commercial together."

"I remember them," said Peter.

"I--can't even think about seeing a lawyer--." Mary Jane put the back of her hand over her mouth.

Peter stifled a strangled groan of torture.

"_Petey!_ I know I'm first in your life! But feeling like I'm--tenth! And never knowing when you might not come back--!" Mary Jane appealed.

Peter clenched his teeth. "I get it, M.J.!"

"I'm leaving now. I'm getting indoors before--midnight. Please don't--follow me!" Mary Jane walked swiftly from the railing. Revelers were with her on the elevator ride to the street level. When she left the building, she heard cries of "Hey, it's Spidey!" "Happy Millennium, Webhead!" "Hey, Wallcrawler, who loves ya? _We do!_" Of course. He would have left the observation deck in the quickest way possible.

Even though she was far from Times Square, Mary Jane had not reached her friends' apartment by midnight. The greatest crowd in New York's history had gathered itself in the city. She never dared to look up. She prayed that he would not be looking out for her--that other matters would occupy his attention tonight. But she walked in a perfect sense of safety. She knew he was spider-sensing her, wherever he was, in the Big Apple.

The movie offer was a big screen treatment of the Fearless Ferret. She played the part of the hero's romantic interest. The irony. She couldn't get away from super-heroes if she tried. The script was awful. The project tanked, thankfully.

Mary Jane subscribed to the Daily Bugle--just so she could follow the daily activities of Spiderman. She did whatever she could do to survive: office temp, waitress, small singing and acting gigs, and some modeling work. And when she wasn't eating, sleeping, or eking out a living, she was online--at home, at the public library, at cyber-cafes--following news of Spiderman. There were stories of team-ups with the Black Cat, Daredevil, and Shadowcat of the X-Men. The thought of Petey and Felicia Farr, a.k.a. the Black Cat, together, gnawed at her heart. Her life became narrowly confined.

_**SEPTEMBER, 200i**_

One night, she was coming in late. She clicked on the light in her apartment and uttered a little scream at the sight of the intruder: female, medium height, muscular, black bodysuit, mane of golden blonde hair, black mask: it was the Black Cat herself.

While Mary Jane tried to catch her breath after being startled, her visitor launched on a tirade. "What the hell is _with _you, Red? Don't you _know_ what you're doing to Petey? To yourself?"

Mary Jane found her breath. "Don't you call him that! That's _my_ privilege--mine and Aunt May's!"

"Yeah, well you kinda reneged on that privilege when you blew him off!"

"What happens between my husband and I is none of your business--Blondie!"

"Snappy comeback, kid. What do we do now, have a catfight--'scuse my pun--pull each other's hair, have a little-girl shoving match?"

"What are you doing here?" asked Mary Jane indignantly.

The Black Cat took off her mask and shook out her hair. "I've been shadowing you for the past couple weeks. Quite a life you've made for yourself, M.J.--borderline obsession, online stalking. Clipping out articles for your Spiderman scrapbook?"

Mary Jane blushed.

Felicia stared and guffawed. "You gotta be kidding. You actually _made_ a scrapbook?"

"Don't call me 'M.J.'!" said Mary Jane defensively. "And stop analyzing me!"

"Mary Jane," said the Cat, softly, with less forcefulness, "Don't you get the point? There are ways you and he connect that I'll never have with him. To you he's 'Petey'. To him you're 'M.J.'. To me, he's not even 'Spidey'. He's the 'Spider'. Listen up for a minute. Truth or dare. Yes, I came on to him--a dozen different times--a dozen different ways--after you two split up. I tried shy and demure. I tried the 'bad girl'--he could web me to a wall and we could do it wearing just our masks--sorry--TMI. I tried aggressive, passionate. I tried to make it sound it casual, offhand, but the truth was I wanted him, desperately. I tried everything short of date rape. He doesn't want anyone but you. I'll admit it." The Cat held up her mask. "I'm not Felicia Farr anymore, except on my driver's license. This is my life. All I want is the mask. He needs someone who looks beyond the mask. You should realize how permanent a thing you have with him, especially in the business you're in. He needs you, but he's too much of a gentleman. He respects your wishes."

Mary Jane stood still, trying to swallow all that the Cat was telling her.

The Black Cat, Felicia Farr, peered intently at Mary Jane. "Not analyzing you, Red. Just informing you. Gotta go." She turned to leave, but with a toss of her blonde mane, she looked over her shoulder. "Oh, yeah, one more thing. Aunt May figured things out--just like you. Peter's big secret. The double life."

Mary Jane staggered at this news.

Felicia continued. "Peter had just had one of his climactic battles. He came home, half dead, took off his costume, and collapsed on his bed. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so careless. Aunt May let herself in with the spare key. Figured she would do Peter's laundry. You know how she is. Found Peter. Our bruised warrior. I'm surprised she didn't keel over right there. Been nursing him back to health. Now you and she have something in common." The look in her eyes became very sad. "Take care of him, Red. He's our warrior." And she was gone.

Mary Jane was breathless. She didn't leave her apartment for a day, stunned as she was. Then she decided. She packed her things and called the airline booking for a flight to LaGuardia Airport. She called Peter and left a text message. "Please forgive me. I'm coming home. I love you."

As she arrived for her outgoing flight, a text message arrived on her cell phone. "Please forgive me too. I'll be waiting. I love you."

But it was the morning of September 11, 2001, and all plane flights in the country were suddenly cancelled.

Mary Jane watched the big TV in the airport in torment as the columns of smoke rose over New York, Washington, D.C., and Virginia. Her torment increased as the Twin Towers collapsed into rubble. Every fiber of her being ached. Her spirit groaned within her. _Oh, Petey. I wish you could fly. I wish I were there. Those poor people. The police. The fire fighters. The doctors, nurses, and paramedics. The supers. Oh, God, help them._

Mary Jane tried calling once. The phone lines were tied up. The she complied with the official request for the public to refrain from making phone calls except in an emergency. She camped out at the airport. Sleeping on the floor was nothing. Washcloth baths out of the public restroom sink was nothing. At last, on the third day, she caught a flight out. On the way, she got through to Petey's phone. No answer. She left a voice mail. "I'm coming." She told him when the flight would arrive. "I'll find my way--" and she hesitated; "--home." Yes. It was right. She was going home. "I know you're probably busy. Do what you have to do for the people who need you. I'll see you. I can already see you in my heart, doing what it is you do. I'm proud of you."

Mary Jane arrived in LaGuardia Airport. The increased security had gone into effect. It took her several hours to make her way through the lineup at the metal detector. And the carry-on luggage inspection. She considered waiting for the rest of her luggage, but after a minute, she left. Let some else claim it. What she wanted lay ahead of her--waiting.

As Mary Jane left the airport, she looked around for Petey. She expected she would have to catch a cab into the city. That might take--. It didn't matter. She would walk if she had to. She stood by the curb for a moment and had a _sense._ She spun around. It was like she had been granted spider sense. Petey stood a hundred feet away.

In a blink of an eye, they were in each other's arms, weeping. Words tumbled out.

"I'm so sor--!"

"Me too!"

"I love y--!"

"I love you t--!"

"What was I thinking, letting you go--?"

"It doesn't matter--I'm here--you're here!" Afterward, they could not tell who said what.

Peter had rented a car. They walked to the car holding each other tightly. Mary Jane had another _sense._ "Petey--something's wrong. What is it?"

He told her in the car. He covered his eyes with his hand. "Aunt May," he said, in a choked whisper.

Shock coursed through her. She knew at once what he meant. "_When?_ Oh, God--she wasn't _there,_ was she?" Mary asked, referring to the World Trade Center.

"No--it was at home--the day before--in her sleep. She had a smile on her face. I found her--just before--the first plane hit the Tower."

Peter was wracked with sobs. Oh, dear God. On top of everything else, _this_ had to happen. Tenderly Mary Jane gathered her wounded warrior into her embrace and cradled his head on her shoulder.

And she learned:

May Parker's body was at the morgue since that morning. Mary Jane's mother, May's neighbor, had waited with her while Peter had departed. J.Jonah Jameson, editor, publisher, and owner of the Daily Bugle, had called Peter on his cell phone.

_"Parker! The biggest story in the city's history! Get over to the Twin Towers and get me pictures!"_

Peter had agonized: remain with the woman who was his mother, or go save lives.

But Mrs. Watson was a practical woman. She had come over for the traditional morning cup of coffee with her neighbor. "Go. Your aunt would understand. You were good to her. She's beyond our help. This is history--like Pearl Harbor. Do what you do--for posterity. You might even save some lives."

Spiderman was able to snatch a precious few from the lower stories--below where the airplanes had collided. But the incendiary jet fuel made it impossible to get to the upper floors. The people were as doomed with the presence of New York's superheroes as they were without them. He felt the tremors as he swung on a webline from a window carrying a lawyer and his legal assistant. In one arm. Chunks of concrete fell from above. The building crumbled behind them, and the cloud of dust billowed for many blocks. And he managed to take some pictures.

Peter Parker held the grief at bay for three days, while Spiderman carried the wounded to treatment, and carried the paramedics to those too injured to be moved. He brought medication and supplies to triage stations, and food and drink to the workers. He helped move the rubble, doing the work of many men. The work of a bulldozer and front-end-loader combined. He hardly slept.

But Mary Jane's voicemail awakened Peter Parker's slumbering sadness. He excused himself. The Mayor himself happened to be at the scene. "Your Honor, I gotta go."

The two pumped hands. "Well done, Spidey. The city thanks you. The nation thanks you."

Peter called the funeral home director. May Parker would be transported to the funeral home to lie in state.

"Petey," asked Mary Jane afterward, "Could we go somewhere special?"

The observation deck of the Empire State Building was closed--for security reasons. But Spiderman scaled the building with ease--even with Mary Jane in his arms.

They had the place to themselves. And in that place where neither had been since that New Year's Eve, in words that no one but themselves would ever know, Mary Jane and Peter poured forth their hearts to each other. Then they sat on the floor of the deck leaning against the wall, looking up at the stars. The weariness came upon him. The floor was like a down mattress. His head was pillowed in Mary Jane's lap. The costume mask was beside them. Her hand soothed his brow and her fingers smoothed his hair while he slept. The sun rose to a renewed Peter Parker. Spiderman swung from the building with a woman in his arms--the woman he loved, whose presence he had craved.

May Parker's funeral was three days later, attended by all the people her love had touched in her almost nine decades of life, including Peter and Mary Jane's high school classmates and friends. The casket and flowers were resplendent, paid for by J. Jonah Jameson in a rare charitable moment. The remarkable woman had touched even his flinty heart. He grasped Peter's hand warmly. "Parker," he said with profound sadness, "Your aunt was one helluva gal. Made me start paying you double for your prints--almost what they were really worth. I'm so sorry she's gone." It was the most compassion he had ever seen J. Jonah display--and the most generosity anyone had ever wrung out of the old miser. It was a surprise to Peter--even in death, she was looking out for him.

But Aunt May had one more surprise. Mrs. Watson handed her daughter a sealed envelope. "Honey, May always knew you two would get back together. She made me promise her to give you this. I have no idea what it says."

Dearest Mary Jane and Petey,

I know you'll be coming back soon, Mary Jane. And I know I won't be here to tell these things to you personally. A person just has a sense about those things. I know my time is almost at hand.

You made a brave move in confronting Petey, years ago, letting him know that you knew the truth, and you're making a brave move in coming back, and I'm proud of you, and I thank you. And I love you both, Mary Jane and Petey, so very, very much.

People know a hero when they see one. Too few characters out there, flying around like that saving old girls like me. And Lord knows, people need a hero. Courageous, self-sacrificing people, setting examples for all of us.

Everybody loves a hero. People line up for them. Cheer them. Scream their names. And years later, they'll tell how they stood in the rain for hours, just to get a glimpse of the one who taught them to hold on for a second longer.

But it takes someone special to love the one behind the hero's mask. Not everybody is cut out to do that.

I believe there's a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride. Even though sometimes we have to be steady and give up the thing we want most. Even our dreams. Spiderman does that for people. And you do that for Petey. And he wonders where you've gone. He needs you.

How you've comforted me, even though you weren't here. Because I know that you shared the great secret of Petey's life. You willingly shouldered the great burden. I hope that it's a comfort to you, even though I'm no longer here, that at last I knew the great secret. How I wish we could have spent more time together. I'd like to think that God kept this old girl alive until your return, to take care of Petey.

Be good to each other. Petey, I so look forward to seeing your Uncle Ben again. Always remember what I've already told you. Your Uncle Ben would be so proud of you if he were still here. As proud as I am of you. How I wish I could see your children, to hold them in my arms, and to tell them about their father when he was little, and their great-uncle. But I leave that to you.

All my love,

Aunt May

Mary Jane and Peter read the letter together. It was obvious that Aunt May had intended them to do so. They gripped each other's hand. Waves of awe washed over them.

Mary Jane wiped the tears from her eyes. "It's like she was here. It's like she knew I would come back. Oh, Petey, why did I stay so long? If I had come back sooner, I would have been here for her _and_ you."

Peter wiped the tears from his eyes. "No, M.J. She knew that the timing was right. She knew you would come when you were most needed."

And that night, Mary Jane and Peter sealed their reunion, in each other's arms, in their common bed. Their bodies spoke a surer language than words ever could. And in the morning, Mary Jane knew, even though medical tests would not confirm it for another month. She had conceived. They would bear a child. And that child would bear the name of the woman who had been a mother to Peter Parker.

New York City began to rebuild its spirit after the fearful day. And Mary Jane began to show. By Christmas, it was quite obvious.

She took a break from acting. There were still modeling offers, especially from designers of maternity clothing. But she wanted to do something more than just occupy the time.

Mary Jane caught word of a most unusual series of classes. New York University was offering courses in Superhero Studies for its winter term, beginning in January. The courses were taught by no less than distinguished guest lecturer. Dr. Henry McCoy, PhD. Ed., on hiatus from the X-Men. It was easily the most popular course series in the history of the school. The course Mary Jane signed up for was Superhero Psychology. She registered online, with little hope of securing a spot, based on the small talk on campus. To her delight, she got the last opening. She took her husband aside. "A spot in this class is harder to get than a Super Bowl Ticket. Petey, did you use any influence?"

Peter winked slyly and shrugged. "M.J., you're registering under the name of 'Mrs. Parker', not 'Mrs. Spiderman'. I'm a free-lance photog and a lab research assistant. I couldn't even get you a discount at the textbook bookstore. You just lucked out."

At the first lecture, a standing ovation greeted Hank McCoy as he stepped up to the podium. He cut an impressive figure: broad and muscular, the blue fur, canine ears, and canine teeth were incongruous with the tailor-made three-piece suit and rich baritone speaking voice.

For their final assignment, each student was required to write a thesis. Mary Jane's topic was The Life of a Superhero: The Trials the Public Doesn't See.

It proved to be a catharsis for Mary Jane. For the first time in her life, she was able to verbally express the fears and worries that driven her and Peter apart. For the rough draft, she even included examples from the life of her own husband.

People were crazy for super-heroes, or "supers"; the excitement of having physical and mental abilities beyond normal humans, the glamour of being well-known, the thrill of battle, the intrigue of a secret identity--people didn't know jack.

It was tragedy, loss, and sadness; she could conduct a seminar on the subject, a Power Point presentation: the pitfalls of being a super--or being married to one.

One, two, three: loss of home, personal loss of life, loss of one's own integral identity or humanity. 

_**First, the most poignant loss was the toll on domestic life--simply having a life of one's own.**_ Divorce, dysfunction, and substance abuse were statistically high in families of those with careers in law enforcement; how much more so in a subculture as insulated and secretive, yet as loosely associated, as the supers. 

The Flash, the third of that name in the Midwest Central City- Keystone City area, the third of the Speedster dynasty dating from World War 2, had lost his marriage, his secret Identity, and couldn't hold down a job. He wasn't a particularly inept super; indeed, by all appearances, being a super was the one thing he excelled in.

Dr. Henry Pym, one of the world's foremost biochemists had discovered a means to enlarge or reduce his stature, and developed cybernetic technology; he changed super personas and names the way people changed their make of car, like a lifelong identity crisis: Ant-Man, Giant-Man, Goliath, Yellowjacket. His marriage to socialite Janet Van Dyne, who was also his former partner, the Wasp, did not survive. He had even been briefly sentenced to prison for assault on his Avenger teammates and unknowingly aiding and abetting one of their foes.

The Green Arrow's sidekick, Speedy, had succumbed to heroin addiction; he had even administered it in the classic fashion, mainlining; he had kicked the habit, but he retired from the life of a super. There was a bright spot: the Green Arrow had become an outspoken advocate of the poor.

_Even Mary Jane and Peter's own marital troubles, until she realized that life apart was no guarantee of peace and safety, and life together, with all its stresses was still preferable. They could strengthen each other. Plus, there was their daughter, May.  
_  
_**Second, the most tragic loss was one's family and friend to injury, or death--or worse, enmity.**_

_Again, this area touched close to home. Peter's life had been riddled with loss. Immediately following the fateful bite by the genetically and radiologically altered spider, he had at first chosen to become a grade B celebrity, a tabloid-show curiosity. Uncle Benjamin and Aunt May were loving foster parents, but poor, and Peter wanted to alleviate that poverty. It was not until that tragic day: at the television studio where Spiderman had just finished a guest appearance at one of the tawdry reality based shows, a sleazy promoter had refused to pay the promised fee. Then, a cheap hood, a mugger, a smash-and-grab artist, had robbed and assaulted the promoter. Peter Parker, young to the ways of the world, refused to lift a finger to catch the fleeing man; it was poetic justice. Later that night, the same mugger had tried to carjack an elderly man's vehicle. The man--Benjamin Parker--was shot and killed, and a grief-stricken nephew promised himself to use his unique abilities to serve the greater good._

_But as if to mock the idealistic young hero, fate dealt more loss. While Peter was dating the Betty Brant, J. Jonah Jameson's secretary, her brother Bennett had gotten involved in an extortion racket over gambling debts. Brother and sister had been taken hostage. Spiderman had broken in the hideout to rescue them, and Bennett died while shielding his sister from the fusillade of bullets. In dealing with the madness of grief, Betty had blamed Spiderman for his death. Peter, who had been contemplating sharing his great secret, suddenly cut short the romance._

_The descent into darkness of Norman Osborn was like tipping over a row of dominoes. It set in motion a Greek chorus of tragedies. The genius of the inventor-industrialist (as Tony Stark had done for his bodyguard Iron Man--whoever it was under the high-tech armor) had impelled him to build ability-enhancing devices. But the psychosis of the wealthy driven self-made single father (would anyone ever really know why) impelled him to use his technology wickedly. He became the Green Goblin, Spiderman's greatest foe._

_Mary Jane remembered the story of the climatic battle. For years the Goblin had toyed with Spiderman, like a cat with a mouse. Whereas Dr. Octopus, Kraven, the Sandman, Electro, and how many others had fought him in deadly earnest, seeking to eliminate him, the Goblin's goal seemed to be to only harass, to torment--like his namesake, a goblin, an imp. There was one battle that Peter had to abandon, giving the appearance of cowardice. He was needed at home, to care for Aunt May. Instead of taking the tactical advantage, the Goblin broke off pursuit, cackling madly--in full view of the New York City public. For weeks the Daily Bugle trumpeted Spiderman's final defeat--until a dramatic reappearance took the wind out of J. Jonah's sails._

_The Goblin dickered with the city's most notorious crime bosses--James Fisk, Biggie Benson--used whoever he could for a cats paw. At last came the decisive engagement. The Goblin captured Peter, revealing both that he knew Spiderman's secret identity, and his own identity, as the father of Peter's college roommate, Harry Osborn. He had spotted a sleeve of the costume through the ajar door of Peter's closet in their dorm room; a moment of carelessness on Peter's part._

_For his own perverse amusement, the Goblin imprisoned Peter in one of the Osborn factories. Osborn proposed a final battle, do or die--or else he would take reprisal on the family and friends of Peter Parker. What could he do but comply? The building was outfitted with booby traps. The Goblin had home court advantage; but he reckoned without the hero's heart. Spiderman destroyed the arsenal of pumpkin bombs. He destroyed the bat-like rocket sled that had made the Goblin so formidable._

_The building was in flames. The Goblin cowered before the man who had bested him. Spiderman was about to beat him to a pulp when Osborn suffered a seizure. He came to in a moment, staring blankly about himself. Thinking swiftly, Spiderman took a daring gamble, a grave risk. He removed the Goblin mask and suit from the man, dressed him in Peter's clothes, and carried him outside._

_The New York Fire Department was in force, trying to put out the fire. So was the Police Department. Spiderman left Norman Osborn in their hands, with the story that the Green Goblin had perished in the flames. Obviously the Goblin had also kidnapped Osborn and had inflicted "God knows what kind of physical and mental trauma on the poor man." He urged immediate treatment before swinging off into the night on a web strand--and hoped to God that the story he concocted would hold water. And so it seemed, for every trace of the Green Goblin was reduced to ash. Every newspaper (except the Daily Bugle, which blamed Spiderman for the fire and accused him of being the Goblin) dutifully published the account as reliable._

_Why had he done it? As he would tell Mary Jane years later, it was for the love of Harry and his father. Maybe--just maybe--Norman Osborn would get the treatment he needed, forget his criminal life, or be convinced that it was an illusion; and father and son would be spared the public shame, the stigma. And it seemed to work. Norman Osborn forgot his former life. He became a philanthropist, a public benefactor._

_That should have been the end of it; but when Harry suffered a psychotic episode himself, he failed college and was institutionalized. Norman's fragile hold on sanity collapsed. Memory came flooding back with wrenching agony. He blamed Harry's problems on Harry's friend and embarked on a vendetta. Feverishly, he rebuilt his Goblin devices._

_The Green Goblin kidnapped Peter's then-fiancé, Gwendolyn Stacy, and flung her from the Queensborough Bridge as he saw his enemy approaching. Desperately, Spiderman shot a webline and snared her; but she had fallen too far. The jarring halt snapped her spine, and she was dead by the time he could retrieve her limp form. _

_Murderous grief maddened them both, one for a catatonic son, and one for a dead lover. They battled savagely, giving no quarter. When at last, however, Peter Parker, his costume in tatters, stood over the broken body of Norman Osborn as he had years before, his rage abated. He could not summon the will to deal the death blow. Both enemies only glared silently at each other, their bodies bruised, their chests heaving with exertion and emotion. Peter turned and walked away. But Norman Osborn, his garments also in shreds, staggered to his feet. He punched the button on his belt that summoned his rocket sled. It hurtled toward Peter, a deadly projectile. Peter's warning spider sense tingled and he adroitly dodged the missile. Norman was in the line of flight. It hit him squarely in the chest. He was slammed into a nearby brick wall. He died instantly of the massive trauma, his face frozen in the snarl of hatred._

_That should have been the end of it. But the fate that Peter would have spared Harry Osborn found him anyway. The Green Goblin's death and his divulged identity were publicized for weeks. When Harry was discharged, he found his father's private journal and back-up cache of jet gliders and pumpkin bombs in the Osborn home. When he saw the entry in the journal revealing that his college roomie was his father's erstwhile opponent, his mind descended the same dark path as his father, like rain down the gutter. He donned the costume and wielded the weaponry of the Green Goblin._

_He did not have the skill of his father. After a lame attempt at kidnapping Aunt May and Mary Jane herself, he was defeated by Spiderman and returned to institutionalization._

_Harry never revealed what he knew of Spiderman's secret identity. When he was discharged again, he tried to make amends by becoming an ally. But again, the lack of skill was his undoing. He was killed in battle. It was a small comfort that their friendship was restored._

_The Goblin dynasty continued. Someone new, the Hobgoblin, appeared, hired by James Fisk, the alleged mob overlord, the so-called Kingpin. After bedeviling Spiderman for several years, this Goblin also was killed--but not before ensnaring more of Peter's friends in the web of tragedy. Flash Thompson, who in high school was both a gifted athlete and a merciless bully to Peter Parker, was arrested for being the Hobgoblin. He was eventually cleared of suspicion and released, and ironically, became Peter's best man at his and Mary Jane's wedding. But the shock that ensued when the Hobgoblin's true identity was discovered: it was Ned Leeds, the husband of Betty Brant, J. Jonah Jameson's secretary and Peter's first unrequited love._

It was rumored that the protectors of the other two major cities on the eastern seaboard, Metropolis and Gotham City, had each lost their families; in fact, her husband, after meeting the Man of Steel personally, said that he had hinted at an entirely different world of origin, and that said world had perished in some sort of stellar cataclysm--talk about issues.

Tragedy stalked the footsteps of Batman as thoroughly as it did the footsteps of Spiderman. After his young sidekick, Robin had grown up and become his own hero, Nightwing, Batman took additional protégés under his wing, more "Robin's. Two died at the hands of the Joker before Batman gave up the experiment of trying to replicate heroes. Batwoman, with whom he began to share a romantic love, was also killed. Catwoman, who had reformed and was in love with Batman, was kidnapped by the Joker and brainwashed back into criminality. She eventually regained her bearings, but the love was lost.

Harvey Dent, Batman's friend and Gotham City's dynamic District Attorney, was disfigured by a vat of acid thrown. The psychological trauma unhinged him. Like Norman Osborn, he embraced a pathological persona. He called himself Two-Face went on a vendetta, killing those he held responsible.

Reed Richards had not been particularly close to his college roommate, an intense, moody young man in this country on a student visa, Victor von Doom, but he admired the keen intellect. The I.Q. of both was almost beyond measurement, and there was a good-natured rivalry--until Reed dared interfere with Victor's pet project: trying to harness psychic energy with an electronic device, in an endeavor to contact the spirit of his departed mother; like conducting a séance with a ham radio.

Reed examined the device and found it faulty. He tried to warn the foolhardy young man, but Victor had the pride of a fallen Lucifer; he considered himself beyond reproof.

The device blew up on its first use, disfiguring him. Victor, who was proud of his perfect face as he was of his perfect mind, disappeared from the hospital, amid rants that the device must have been tampered with by Reed. And so, years later, when Reed and his closest friends had acquired abilities and established vocations, an old acquaintance arose to bedevil him, garbed in dark armor and robes, arrayed with fearful weaponry: Dr. Doom.

Reed married his partner and lover, Susan Storm. They had a son, Franklin. But while pregnant with what would have been their second child, Sue miscarried as a result of injuries inflicted Annihilus, another armored foe.

Charles Xavier wanted his lifelong friend, Erik Magnus Lensherr, to join him in the noble work of gathering together those who had been born with the superhuman abilities; mutants, some called them; a new emerging human species, others said: Homo Superior. Whatever the name, whatever the cause for the rapidly proliferating number of such individuals, Charles envisioned a peaceful coexistence between the two varieties of human, those gifted with powers using them beneficially, those not gifted with powers welcoming the others without bigotry, fear, or suspicion.

It was not to be. Magnus had spent his early youth in a Nazi concentration camp. Peaceful coexistence was a myth. One group had been sequestered and targeted for elimination. What would keep it from happening to another? And so, ironically, he took a lesson from the Zionists. The mutants, like the Jews, should have their own homeland, unaligned, beholden to no one. Thus began Magneto's Brotherhood.

_**Third, the most profound loss was one's very self, one's own person.**_

Hank McCoy, the Beast of the X-Men, had been born with a prehensile ability to climb, jump, and leap. He had the body mass of a bull gorilla, and several times the strength--(_a strength almost rivaling Peter's, yet was as agile as a spider monkey--Mary Jane smiled to herself at the unconscious pun.) _He was also an electronics wizard capable as Tony Stark--and held doctorates in philosophy, language, and teaching. It was also to his chagrin that the mutation continued to advance. His appearance changed. He became canine-like, with pointed ears, long fur, and fangs. It was only the timely intervention of a team of experts convened by Professor Xavier that discovered--by accident--how to halt the onset of the condition, before that magnificent mind degenerated to a sub-human state. So Dr. McCoy, super, inventor, and university lecturer, with his reading glasses perched on his nose, accepted his fate with his usual aplomb and graciousness.

Especially sad was the occurrence of more than one incident, if loss should strike in two or three of the categories. It was as though they were born under an evil star.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, had undergone it all: the death of his best friend and partner Bucky Barnes, at the hand of Baron Zemo; his fiancé Sharon Carter, the former S.H I.E.L.D. agent, who had joined The Order, a fascist group and then died by self-immolation; his very life had been split in half, locked in the arctic ice in suspended animation for three decades; a pre- and post-awakening life. He blamed himself for taking a sidekick like Bucky whose abilities had not been enhanced by the experimental Super Soldier serum, whose demise seemed almost inevitable in hindsight. Nick Fury, a fellow WW2 vet and Steve's closest confidante, would often find him brooding: "The past wrappin' itself around him, never lettin' him go," Col. Fury once observed.

Benjamin Grimm, in acquiring superhuman strength, had acquired a fearful appearance, unlike Fantastic Four partners, who still _looked _ordinary. He learned to deal with his appearance, however; he resigned himself to it. He became known for his homespun insights, the proverbs by his Aunt Petunia, and crude but humorous observations; he became an object of public adoration, especially in the Big Apple; his bad language, his poor grammar, his temper; the New Yorkers took him to their hearts; he was one of their own. Alas, his engagement to Alicia Masters did not endure.

Unlike Ben Grimm, Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, respected nuclear physicist, was forever saddled with a Jekyll-Hyde existence, changing seemingly at random, in the blink of an eye, according to his mood, or his emotional state, forever struggling with trying to retain his intellect when he changed into the Hulk; sometimes he was reduced to a grunting monosyllabic creature. The world's strongest man, yet shunned as a freak. The associates of Dr. Banner, Gen. Ross and Maj. Glenn Talbot, were sworn to capture (or kill) the Hulk. In a cruel twist of fate, he lost his heart to Ross's daughter, Betty, but she chose to become Mrs. Talbot. When Talbot finally went so far as to attempt to murder Dr. Banner, she left him. Talbot was killed in a very trap he had set for Banner-Hulk. It seemed that for time fate was kind to the hapless man; he had learned how to control the change; he learned how to think rationally while he was the Hulk; he was gaining respect as a genuine law-abiding Super. Bruce Banner and Betty Ross Talbot even married; then it all came apart. Betty proved unequal to the stress and suffered an emotional breakdown; she divorced Bruce. Modok, the mad genius of A.I.M. (Advanced Idea Mechanics) exploited the situation; he abducted Betty and subjected her to the same variety of gamma rays that had first triggered Banner's transformation. She became the Harpy, a personification of the mythical creature, half-woman and half-bird-of-prey. The two former lovers, the two former spouses, both gamma-irradiated, both grotesquely transformed, were now arch-enemies. What a horrible irony.

The marriage of Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye , and Mockingbird, both belonging to the West Coast Avengers, did not survive; it was an especially bitter divorce; and later she herself lost her life in battle.

Daredevil had become a frequent ally of Spiderman--_and Matthew Murdock had become almost a family friend of the Parkers'. She could watch his ascents and declines from his elbow, as it were._ A red head_--like herself--_who grew up poor in a single parent home_--like herself--_and bullied_--like Peter_ He was robbed of his sight by a blow on the head; robbed of his father--a former heavyweight boxer--by a crooked fight promoter. He went on to graduate law school at the top of his class. He was bestowed (or accursed) with phenomenal senses and reflexes by the same accident that took his sight--and a high dose of radiation (there it was again--like Peter, like the Fantastic Four, like God knows how many others). Like her husband he was now capable of certain physical feats beyond the ability of other men. He could more than compensate for his loss of vision. He had become one of the foremost trial lawyers in the nation. Drawing upon his enhanced sensory, athletic, and acrobatic prowess, he fashioned the super-hero identity for himself and tracked down his father's killers. But vocational success both as an attorney and super did not translate into personal happiness.

Daredevil had lost the love of his life, Electra Natcios, twice over. First she had become an enemy: a ninja assassin in the hire of Fisk, the Kingpin. Then she was ruthlessly dispatched by another of Fisk's specialists, Bullseye. Daredevil then tracked down Bullseye, and had left him a quadriplegic in reprisal; but Bullseye had recovered, and in turned tracked down Daredevil--and Matthew Murdock lost the love of his life, Karen Page, just like Peter, Gwen Stacy, and Norman Osborn. Next he had been out-ed by a tabloid--not for sexual preference, but secret identity. And he settled for being a protector of his home neighborhood: Hell's Kitchen.

As Elasti-Girl (or -Woman) of the Incredibles was rumored to have said: your secret identity is your most valuable possession.

To avoid risk to his law partner and friend Franklin Nelson, he became a recluse, leaving the law practice and taking up residence in a seed flat in Hell's Kitchen. As Daredevil he became something of a self-proclaimed vigilante for the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood, and as Matt Murdock he occupied himself with doing pro-bono work at the free legal clinic and taking obscure jobs like short-order cooking. Depending on the availability of work, he might even find himself homeless from time to time. _Peter-Spiderman was probably his last friend; he would shepherd the man through occasional bouts of despondency, and even binge-drinking; how the mighty were fallen._

The two most poignant, most tragic stories were those of Wanda Maximov, Magneto's daughter, the Scarlet Witch; and Marvel Girl, Phoenix, member of the X-Men.

Wanda and her brother Pietro had been abandoned by their father and raised by a nanny in a small village somewhere in Rumania--or Hungary--no one was really sure--where people still lived like it was the seventeenth century--small farms, no electricity, no cars, no medical care, short life expectancy, superstition--lots of superstition. Both children had discovered their mutant abilities: Pietro could move at super-speed; Wanda could--well, make things _happen_; a cow dropping dead, a barn bursting into flame; unfortunate things; the people in the village believed in the Evil Eye, the Hex. Wanda must be a witch.

A torch-wielding mob pursued Wanda. Pietro appeared, exercising his own mutant ability: super speed. He fended off their attackers as long as he could, but he was overwhelmed by numbers. Suddenly, their metal tools, like hammers, plows, and pitchforks came to life and laid them low. A man in a red helmet and cloak appeared to make the objects move with a wave of his hand.

"Thank you, stranger," said Wanda.

"Come with me. I will give you a place--and a purpose," the man said. And so the Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver became part of Magneto's Brotherhood.

But it didn't feel right--battling other supers--opposing the Homo Sapiens. When the Avengers issued a call to join, they accepted, and resolved the moral and ethical dilemma in their hearts. Wanda found romance and marriage with her fellow Avenger, the Vision--an android, to be sure, but capable of emotion. She found fulfillment in mastery of her hex ability.

But her happiness crumbled. Magneto revealed his secret. She was Wanda Maximov, daughter of Magnus. The hex power affected her reason. She became delusional--psychotic. Her marriage crumbled. She imagined having children. She imagined them abducted. She took over the mind of a fellow Avenger, She-Hulk, who killed other Avengers, the Falcon, Antman, Hawkeye, and most tragically, the Vision. The Wasp was left comatose. Captain America was gravely injured. Wanda was left catatonic. It nearly spelled the end of the Avengers. Her love, her imagined family, her fulfillment, her sanity--all were gone.

Marvel Girl--whoever she was--was a victim of latent sexism among the supers. In high school when she joined the X-Men, she suffered the fate of others, like Invisible _Girl_ and Super_girl_. Male super had the option of being addressed as adult men, like Ice_man_ and Spider_man_--her own husband-to-be. Mary Jane identified with her, another redhead. When the X-Men encountered an artifact called the M'Kraan Crystal, Marvel Girl had an upgrade--and a makeover. Her telekinetic abilities increased exponentially. Mary Jane the fashionista had nothing but appreciation for Marvel Girl's new name--Phoenix--and her new costume--the green and yellow color scheme with the sash--she was a goddess.

Her love affair with her fellow X-Man, Cyclops, was the stuff of legend. Everyone in the super community looked forward to another wedding. And then it all came apart. The secret director, Sebastian Shaw, of New York City's exclusive club of the idle rich, The Hellfire Club, did a thing even Magneto never succeeded at: tempting an X-Man to break ranks. Shaw, himself a mutant, used the extrasensory powers of Emma Frost and Mastermind to induce Phoenix to switch her allegiance. She joined the Hellfire Club's Inner Circle, a secret order dedicated to world supremacy, like Magneto's Brotherhood. But to their dismay, they unleashed an awful persona: the Dark Phoenix, capable of obliterating the entire planet. The Hellfire Club was decimated. In a last moment of clarity, and a supreme act of self-sacrifice, Phoenix stood in the line of fire of a disintegration beam.

In the final version of her paper, Mary Jane had been careful to edit out all personal references. Still, the project had been an emotional release for her. For the first time, she was able to put into words all the feelings she had as the wife of a super. She wished she could submit the paper in a personal way.

Dr. McCoy gave her paper an A-plus grade. "You show rare insight, both in categorizing the difficulties of a super's life, and in selecting examples of each category from examples that are a matter of public record--and yet, how you write shows an almost personal familiarity with these events. You write with love, Mrs. Parker--as though you were the parent--or the sibling--or the spouse--of a super, instead of only an acquaintance, through your husband's ties with Spiderman."

Mary Jane gulped. Had she revealed too much?

Dr. McCoy handed the paper back. "Do with it as you will, Mrs. Parker. There are no photocopies. I'm not interested in speculation. But--will you consent to talk with a colleague of mine?"

Mary Jane was introduced to the head of Global Justice, Dr. Elizabeth Director. Petey had once described a meeting with Col. Nicholas Fury, the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.--an eyepatch, but the remaining eye could look right through you--personable but no-nonsense--a self-depreciating humor, but with the sobriety of someone who had the defense of the world as their duty. Mary Jane now understood what he meant.

"Mrs. Parker, my good friend Dr. McCoy had referred you to me. I have a proposition for you. Like many agencies that operate--covertly--we're always keeping a low profile, but we're always seeking recruits. You have that rare gift of knowing much and understanding much but divulging little. My organization is always dealing with supers. It's a dangerous time in the world--religious radicals, political radicals on one side, and fearful, overly cautious bureaucrats on the other side. There are people in government, and even in my own agency, who believe that unregulated supers pose a danger. They would even make secret identities illegal. I'm seeking people who have the sensitivity to analyze, and the humanity to be concerned for those they analyze. I'm seeking someone like--you, Mrs. Parker."

Mary Jane was speechless.

Dr. Director continued. "It's hard to attach a label to what you would do, Mrs. Parker. Profiler--advocate--ombudsman--representative. This isn't a fulltime lifelong commitment. Officially you would be a civilian advisor, not an agent. You could keep your personal life. You would not have to worry about being compromised. You wouldn't have to 'disappear' in an emergency. And you could be a voice for those supers you obviously feel so connected to." She held up a file. "This is the dossier on Captain America. Much of the material is now declassified. Steve Rogers was an ordinary man who was given the extraordinary opportunity to serve his country. I offer the same opportunity to you."

Dr. McCoy spoke up. "Prof. Xavier made a very similar offer to me when I was a young man, Mrs. Parker. I've never regretted accepting it."

"Many of the trials you mention in the lives of the supers occur because there is no safety net of support for them," said Dr. Director. "I don't guarantee that your efforts will help in that area--any more than mine might help--but when the supers represent the thin life of defense against their evil counterparts, any effort is better than no effort."

Mary Jane took a long time to answer. "There's someone I have to talk to," she finally said."

"Take all the time you need," said Betty Director.

"Contact me if you decide," said Hank McCoy.

"Petey--what do you think?" Mary Jane asked her husband.

"Wow--my wife--being like a secret agent. But could you handle it--with your show biz--and the baby?" And he hastily added, "I mean--I'll pitch in with her."

Mary Jane smiled. "Petey--be practical. If there's anyone whose vocation makes it hard to be around, it's _you._ Plus, Dr. Director assured me, I could keep a personal life."

Peter shrugged. "No problem here."

And so Mary Jane became a civilian consultant attached to Global Justice. Not everyone welcomed her arrival. Agent Will Du, Betty Director's protégé, protested. "She's an _actress_! A _model_! She's useless!" He would one day feel the same about another redhead, a high school student and cheerleader.

Mary Jane gave birth in the spring. It was a girl. They named her May Parker. She had Peter's brown hair, brown eyes, and Mary Jane's small ears and mouth.

_**New York City**_

_**May, 2006**_

Mary Jane got a phone call before catching the plane to Middleton, Colorado, to visit Kim Possible and her mother, in preparation of the new reality TV show.

"Mary Jane, hi. It's Betty Director." Mary Jane's planned visit with Kim Possible had come to her attention. Global Justice still wanted Kim Possible--and Richard Harte. They were even willing to take Ron Stoppable. Would Mary Jane assess Kim's openness to such an offer?

Yes. Mary Jane would.

_**Middleton, Colorado**_

_**May, 2006**_

Mary Jane Watson had just left Middleton High School. She was wrapped in her own thoughts, her own considerations. She had researched Kim and Dr. Possible thoroughly, as she always researched someone thoroughly when her name was attached to a project; and the more she studied Kim Possible, the more engrossed she became. Kim reminded her of herself; and not just because of the red hair. Kim was a go-getter; she thrived on challenge; the man in her life was quiet and shy; no one had taken him seriously in high school; he even referred to her by her initials: K.P.

Just like Mary Jane's husband, Peter Parker. Quiet and shy. Underrated. For as long as she could remember, he had called her M.J.

There was also a deeper resemblance: the super-hero connection.

The studio had done extensive research to find the most visible contestants; it had chosen Kim for star quality; a teen super hero flush with victory and thrust into the limelight. She had fame before this, but it was the big time now; and her mother was a prominent neurosurgeon.

Mary Jane Watson also believed in extensive research. Normally she would restrict her research to the periodicals and publications, even the school yearbooks and student periodicals, but because of the super hero aspect, she broadened her database. Her husband's status as a backup Avenger gave him access to other sources which she had prevailed on him to consult, and he had lovingly complied. There were the files of international law enforcement organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. and Global Justice, and even the Avengers' own files. Not only did they document the minute biographic details, but they profiled each one psychologically. Mary Jane felt some reluctance; it was like covert surveillance.

It was all here on her PDA; after she had reviewed the pertinent information, she would enter the command to wipe the hard drive clean; the data was too sensitive.

Name: Kimberly Ann Possible

Birthplace: Middleton, Colorado

Parents: James Timothy Possible, PhD., rocket engineer; Annette Joan Possible, PhD., M.D., neurosurgeon

Siblings: Jim and Tim, identical twins

Nickname: Kim (friends); K.P. (Ron); Kimmie-cub (father)

Most super heroes began their vocation as the result of one or two significant events. They acquired their special abilities as the result of a technological accident, chemical or radioactive exposure, or whatever. Then a traumatic event, like the death of a loved one, would strengthen their resolve to use those special abilities.

Kim seemed to go against type. There was no pain in her childhood--except the pain of her two little brothers who spied on her and played practical jokes on her, and the embarrassment of two parents who spoiled her with affection and affirmed her in every pursuit she ever tried. Mary Jane would have given much to have to have a father who had a pet name for his daughter (like "Kimmie-cub") instead of reviling epithets ("You're nothing but a tramp--just like your mother!") She crushed on the class hottie, liked designer labels, and became captain of the cheer squad.

She had a most unorthodox origin: a simple webpage, and a simple tagline, "I can do anything" to solicit babysitting jobs turned into a super-hero career.

In other respects, Kim had what it took to be a super. She was a type "A" personality with an "A" grade point. She was proficient in over a dozen forms of kung-fu. Her leadership and problem-solving skills in school and babysitting translated well into being a costumed crusader. From saving flood-stricken villages to piloting tugboats through hurricanes, to climbing mountains, to parachuting, to opposing mad would-be world conquerors, Kim had proven what her father was reported to have often said, "Anything is possible for a Possible."

She retained the characteristic modesty in the face of overwhelming gratitude. "Aw, it was no big," she would say. Much like another super Mary Jane knew: "Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman."

Projected vocation: she would be a leader of one the international organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. or Global Justice; she would be another Col. Nicholas Fury or Dr. Betty Director--most likely down to the eyepatch and facial scars, having sustained numerous injuries in the course of her crime fighting career.

The thought of one of those shining green eyes put out, of that lovely face disfigured, made Mary Jane's insides twist.

Name: Ronald Adrian Stoppable

Birthplace: Middleton, Colorado

Parents: Abraham Stoppable, actuary, cantor; Rachel Stoppable, bank teller, housewife

Siblings: none

Nickname: Ron

Projected vocation; fast food worker, professional stamp and coin collector

Ron was the ultimate pathetic sidekick: afraid of bugs, dumping all the class project work on the lab partner (usually Kim), borrowing money (usually from Kim), borrowing someone else's homework (usually Kim's), barging in on Kim's dates; it was easy to see why Kim was constantly "tweaked" (in her words) at him. But he had his moments. He disguised himself as Kim's father and foiled a kidnapping attempt by Dr. Drakken. He single-handedly defeated a super-villain, Gill, who had abducted Kim and the entire Middleton High Cheer Squad.

Global Justice at first had approached Kim (she would later say they shanghaied her) to join; they weren't interested in Ron. Later, they decided to foot the bill for an entire statistical probability study: that Ron's clumsy, inept but sincere efforts as Kim's partner were responsible for her remarkable record of victories over her adversaries, her martial and acrobatic skills notwithstanding. It was something like the Hex power of the Scarlet Witch and the probability power of the Black Cat. They called it the "Ron factor". Kim herself had said that she couldn't save the world without him.

And then there was that climactic moment; unseen by the world, alluded to by Kim in news interviews, but envisioned by Mary Jane. It was that dramatic moment between Kim and Ron where they confronted each other and acknowledged their love--just as Mary Jane confronted Peter and divulged her own love for him--and her confession that she knew his secret--he was Spiderman. Mary Jane knew without looking at a shred of the statistical evidence; this was the true Ron Factor.

There was also a gap in the record. In his sophomore year of high school, Ron had gone to Japan as an exchange student--and simply vanished for a period of time. His movements were untraceable, but from the time of his return to Middleton, an almost indiscernible but ever-increasing proficiency was seen by Global Justice profilers in Ron's martial arts ability and partnering skills. Speculation was rampant. One of the more imaginative scenarios was that he attended a secret school in the mountain fastness, a school that had existed for centuries, and taught ninja skills--a school that eluded all efforts by the most modern satellite surveillance and most thorough search by both law enforcement agencies and criminal syndicates to discover its location.

Revised projected vocation: (since dating Kim, working for the Bueno Nacho organization, and being personally hired by Pop Pop Porter) he would go on to become a regional manager, or an independent caterer

Mary Jane identified with Ron. She had suffered in silence while Peter was involved with Felicia Farr, the Black Cat. But Felicia attracted to the sex appeal of the masked super, not the mundane chemical engineer-dash-photojournalist. Felicia no more cared for Peter Parker than Erik Drake "cared" for Kim Possible. Mary Jane understood Ron's emotional meltdown when he declared to the world that he was losing everything he ever cared about.

And Mary Jane identified with Kim. After a lifetime of being the vivacious high profile redhead who crushed on the class hottie, who all the guys hit on, how great a shock it was to realize that one who really made her heart melt was the shy, quiet boy she had known since pre-k, the dork, the one the bullies hassled, whether his name was Peter--or Ron.

Name: Washington Demetrius Load VII

Birthplace: Middleton, Colorado

Nickname: Wade

Parents: Washington Demetrius Load VI, deceased; Ophelia Mahalia Load, D.D., ordained minister, choir director, community activist, pastored her own church.

Some might think it odd that the profilers had included a non-super-hero, but analysis showed that Wade Load was as integral a part of the team as the those involved on missions; he was a technology prodigy and inventor, surely on the level of Anthony Stark, Iron Man's employer, perhaps even approaching the ability of Henry Pym--or Reed Richard. Those who pictured super-heroes as having square jaws and chiseled physiques did not reckon with, say, for sake of argument, Charles Xavier, the clandestine founder of the X-Men, who was a paraplegic and confined to a wheelchair

Wade was an agoraphobic and a recluse. He hardly ventured outdoors. He had a college PhD. in computer science at age ten. Most child prodigies had severe emotional difficulties. But Wade had a healthy emotional outlet: His computer room was Team Possible's Mission Control. The royalties from his inventions and the fees from his consultant services allowed him and his mother to live in economic security.

Mary Jane read with intense interest the story of Wade's ancestor on his father's side, Washington Demetrius Load I.

Demetrius was a slave who had escaped from Virginia in 1829. He made his way to Boston. He educated himself, and renamed himself: Washington Demetrius Load; Washington for the Father of his country, and Load for the reference from "Pilgrim's Progress".

"Pilgrim's Progress", by John Bunyan, was an allegory about Christian life. Washington Demetrius was profoundly impressed by the imagery, especially the symbol of the burden of sin that the main character had to carry: "I am so loaden with the burden that is on my back."

"Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation. Isa. 26:1 Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the _**load**_ on his back. He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending, and upon that place stood a cross...just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble...and I saw it no more. Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said, with a merry heart, "He hath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death..."

His burden was gone, both of slavery, and of sin, but to remind himself of that burden, he called himself Washington Demetrius Load.

Name: Rufus

Birthplace: unknown

Place of Acquisition: Pet and Pet Supplies Dept., Smarty Mart, Middleton branch

Species: Heterocephalus glaber, Naked Mole Rat (non-human)

Owner: Ron Stoppable

Once the Global Justice profilers had determined that Wade Load was a legitimate member of Team Possible, it was only a short step to considering Rufus likewise. He had definitely proven himself invaluable on their missions. He seemed to have an almost telepathic bond with Ron. He also displayed a manual dexterity equal to the higher primates, humans and great apes, and even a mechanical aptitude. The forensic examiners of Global Justice fervently wanted to confiscate Rufus and subject him to all their experimental and diagnostic procedures, but Dr. Director exercised all the weight of her authority and forbad it.

It could not be found where Rufus was born, whether in the wild or a zoo or a breeding farm. Records simply did not exist. Ron's parents simply purchased him on the same day as Kim tried out for the Maddog Cheer Squad--the same day her webpage went online: same day as their first "mission"--it was a day fraught with destiny.

The decision to classify him as Ron's "animal" instead of Ron's "pet" or "associate" was purely arbitrary. The debate created a small firestorm among the profilers, particularly a few who were registered members of PETA. Given the latest political climate regarding the animal protection movement and the confusion an "insensitive" label might cause, it was decided that Rufus was not a "pet" and that Ron was not Rufus's "master". "Owner" was the least offensive designation. The word "ally" was still under consideration.

And so Rufus joined the ranks of those who were officially classified a non-human super, like Krypto, Superman's dog, Ace, Batman's dog, Redwing, the Falcon's bird, and Aragorn, the Black Knight's horse.

The last two people, the most recent members of Team Possible, represented the more traditional super-hero archetype.

Name: Daphne Mei Harte

Birthplace: Kenjijen, Japan

Parents: Leo Benedict Harte, retired missionary, pastor; Mariah Bess Harte, deceased

Sibling; Richard Leo Harte, fraternal twin; she was the elder by a minute

Nickname: Daphne; Daph, Sis (her brother Richard)

Projected vocation: computer programmer, inventor

If Kim and Ron were typical teenagers of the twenty-first century, the Harte twins were typical teenagers of the eighteenth or nineteenth century. Deeply religious, studious, respectful. They seemed very out of place in contemporary American culture. Perhaps it had something to do with their upbringing--not in Middleton, or in America at all. They were born and raised in Japan. As with Ron, there was a period of time that could not be accounted for--in this case, several years. The same rumors flew. A martial arts academy, a secret boarding school--a Ninja Hogworts. It might well be true. The lives of shadowy heroes, like Batman, and the Shadow, and reclusive villains, like Dr. Doom, had strong hints of secret Tibetan influence.

Daphne and Kim had a history of personality conflict. Sparks often flew between them, in glares and body language more than in words.

Daphne thought that Kim was too shallow, and that for too long she had toyed with Ron's affections while dating first Walter Nelson, then Josh Mankey, then Erik Drake, when it was painfully obvious (at least to Daphne) that Ron had long carried a torch for Kim.

Kim thought that Daphne was intrusive and self-righteous. What had happened between Kim and Ron was the business of Kim and Ron, not a Little Miss Prim who came late the missions game.

Ironically, Daphne and Wade became colleagues. They met online. The soft-spoken studious missionary's daughter and the brash irrepressible soup kitchen director's son struck up a friendship every bit as profound as that of the red-haired cheerleader and the freckle-faced high school mascot.

Daphne and Wade both had an aptitude for computers and inventions. Daphne juggled two roles: with Wade she was tech support for Teams Possible and Harte, and with her brother, she was a partner on missions.

Daphne was the most cautious and withdrawn of Team Possible-Harte, the one least likely to indulge in jokes and frivolous humor.

Name: Richard Leo Harte

Birthplace: Kenjijen, Japan

Parents: Leo Benedict Harte, retired missionary, pastor; Mariah Bess Harte, deceased

Sibling: Daphne Mei Harte

Nickname: Rich; Ricky (mother and sister)

Projected vocation: freelance artist & writer

Surely here was another Peter Parker: brown-haired, bespectacled, well-read, intellectual, quiet, an interest in the visual arts--his was painting, like his sister, as Peter's was photography--and the loss of a parental figure--as Peter had lost his Uncle Benjamin. Like Kim, he had been approached by Global Justice to join, and like Kim, he had declined, preferring to work as a small-time independent. It was proverbial in Global Justice: there was no love lost between Will Du and Richard Harte--like Kim.

It was the exposure of Mariah Bess Harte to a nerve gas attack in Tokyo by a doomsday cult leader called the Venerable Master that had prompted Richard to put his martial arts talents to use. He prevailed upon his sister to join him, as in what began in a small way, they infiltrated and surveyed groups they thought dangerous. Sometimes they passed tips on to the authorities. Sometimes they simply took it upon themselves to apprehend a criminal and bring him to justice. It was dangerous work. But, as Mary Jane reminded herself, it was no more dangerous than a Middleton, Colorado high school student facing would-be world conquerors, or a Queens, New York high school student who had acquired spider-like super-powers single-handedly facing super villains that groups like the Avengers and the Fantastic Four found daunting.

And strangely the story took another turn. As loaded with destiny that Kim had her first mission on the day Kimpossible-dot-com went online and Ron acquired Rufus, was the fact that Mariah Bess Harte returned to the home of her youth for a final medical exam at the office of Dr. Annette Possible. There was no hope. The condition was terminal. But Annette Possible and Mariah Bess Harte became more than friends as a result of that single appointment.

When Mrs. Harte died, her family moved back to Middleton. Richard and Daphne continued to carry out their undercover missions. But Richard wanted to come to the surface. He wanted to do even more. And the way he chose to do that was to try and join himself and his sister to Kim and Ron. The union between Team Possible and Team Harte was the brainchild of Richard Harte. But it took a lot of work to convince a skeptical Kim, who trusted them no more than she trusted Will Du, and saw no need to enlarge the group, and a skeptical Daphne Harte, who ironically felt like Kim: two was a perfect number. Why tamper with perfection.

Hello, this was interesting: An intense preoccupation with chivalry and mythology.

Apparently Richard's great genius was literature: prose and poetry. It was his great love, after missions and painting. His literary knowledge rivaled Wade's computer knowledge

But there was a footnote to Richard's profile that made him sound absolutely unsavory.

Obsessive, unhealthy interest in chivalry and legend

Ability to make rational command decisions might be impaired

Has attached himself to Kim Possible

Mary Jane suspected that Will Du was responsible for that last entry.

There was something different about this assignment. Was it Mary Jane's sense of kinship with Kim? Was it that Kim and Ron were in the early unspoilt stages of their love? How it took Mary Jane back

Was it that Kim herself was marvelously untainted by grief and sorrow--up to this point?

Intensive research had only confirmed Mary Jane's presupposition; without fail, the lives of the supers were riddled with tragedy upon tragedy, multiplied loss and sadness. This was the fate that awaited each member of Team Possible.

Mary Jane had reconciled herself to what had happened to Peter and what more might happen. She would endure what life might mete out, for the sake of her love for Petey. But to expose Kim and her friends--to be a party to exposing them--to watch it happen. No matter how long they been doing missions--no matter how many evil plots they had foiled--they had no idea. It had no end--new enemies, new pressures.

A sob escaped her lips-she cupped her hand over her mouth. Tears escaped her eyes-she blinked them back. More sobs--she had to pull the car over and give vent to her sorrow. In a few moments she was composed again. She reapplied her makeup in the visor mirror and pulled out from the curb.

A frenzied desire to turn the car around and drive back to the high school seized Mary Jane, to grab Kim by the shoulders and urge her, _Forget modeling, forget super-hero-ing; use that overachieving brain to get yourself into a sure thing, like the legal profession. Marry Ron--it's plain to see, he's crazy in love with you. Start a catering business--have a couple kids. If you feel like helping people, get into medicine like your mother. But leave the missions behind--it's nothing but heartache._

But she knew it was already too late: God, or Fate, had already decreed; Destiny had set its mark on each one of these exceptional people; she could see the fire in their eyes. Kim Possible and her Team were part of the next wave, like the Teen Titans, like the New Mutants of the X-Men--like young Franklin Richards. Even her own daughter, little May Parker, the object of her father's fierce pride and joy, was showing evidence of superhuman strength and speed, and the preternatural spider sense; Peter was grimly determined that his daughter live normally; how futile; as Peter's Uncle Ben had once said: "With great power comes great responsibility."

Mary Jane could not recall ever before feeling so depressed; she felt an intense longing to be in Petey's arms, to snatch up her little girl and smother her with hugs and kisses.

With a bleak outlook, Mary Jane Watson continued the drive to her hotel.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	4. Chapter 4

Faite200 and Cyclon, thank you for the prelim reviews on chpt 1.

YankeeBard, will K.P. be okay in the Big apple? You must wait & see. Keep Rich away from Kim? Many wish. Others--well, we'll see.

Whitem: why is she continuing with the profiling? I tried to convey that she had decided to sort of ride out her anti-sentiments--until she met Kim--and then it all came spilling out.

On with the show.

We begin this chpt. With more flashbacks. Background info: as recounted in my fic's Kim and the Lionheart and Mother's Day, Mariah Bess Harte, the mother of Daphne and Richard Harte, was a patient of Mrs.Dr.Possible. Mrs. Harte's neurological condition was terminal, and Mrs.Dr.P. could offer her no medical relief. But the two kept in constant touch, by letter and phone call. A deep friendship formed between them. They even began calling each other by their pet nicknames. Mariah Bess's friends and family had called her "Mamie" since childhood. And Annette Possible had been known as "Posey" in college after marrying James Timothy Possible.

Mariah Bess's children attended the boarding school of headmaster Goro Takyama, as recounted in my fic's Kim and the Lionheart and Solo Mission.

The flashback scene where Rich finally confronts Kim, and Kim's explosive reaction is told in chpt. 4 of Solo Mission, and is retold here with a few variations. It will be retold in Kim and the Lionheart as part of the proper chronological order. Kim and the Lionheart is one timeline of the story of Richard Harte I like to call the "Coeur de Lion" timeline. Solo Mission is part of the "Unkillable" timeline. (If you have seen Richard Sirois's art, that is a variation on his "Richard Lionheart" character.) (All will be explained--soon)

Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Mr. & Mrs.Dr.P, Walter Nelson, and Middleton, Colorado belong to Disney. Leo & Mariah Bess Harte, Cyndi Larsen, Dr. Yamato, Master Goro Takyama, Ichoro Kansumi-san, and Kenjijen, Japan are my creations. Daphne and Richard Harte are my characters based on Richard Sirois's characters, Helen and Richard Lionheart, based on his sister Helene and himself. The Venerable Master is based on an actual cult leader, as is mentioned in Kim and the Lionheart.

Kim and Ron's trip to London is based on CaptainKodak1's story London Towne and is used with permission.

The nerve gas attack in the Tokyo subway took place on Monday March 20, 1995, at 8:00 a.m. It is Japan's own, as 9-11 is America's own, as all acts of terrorism committed against a people are a people's own. May God implant the spirit of courage found in Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, and Richard Harte in all our hearts.

_**SPRING 2001**_

Mrs.Dr.Possible set her alarm for the wee hours of the morning. As she figured it, taking into account the time difference between Denver and Tokyo, Mariah Bess Harte should be awake at this hour. She dialed the phone.

Mariah Bess's husband answered. "Hello, this is the Harte household. Pastor Leo speaking."

"Hello, Leo, it's Annette Possible."

"Dr Possible! This is unexpected. Mariah Bess should be up shortly."

"Leo--I've got to ask. Dr. Yamato and I keep in touch. He sent me the latest results of the bloodwork. It's not encouraging."

She heard Leo inhale and exhale slowly. "There's no way to say it gently, Annette. Her time is short. Months, maybe weeks."

Annette tried to maintain composure. "How--" She swallowed. "--How is she?"

"She sleeps a lot. She's on maximum painkillers, but there are times--" Leo's voice quavered. "My wife is a trooper, Annette. A saint. She just closes her eyes and purses her lips. They when it passes, she opens her eyes and can converse."

"Oh, Leo--what can I say?"

"You've been a friend, Annette. More than a friend. You've been a Godsend--an angel." There was a pause. "She's awake, Annette. I notice it when you call. She seems to have a sense. Just a minute."

"Posey!" said Mariah Bess in a weak but excited voice. "I was just thinking about you!"

Annette would hardly have known the voice. "Hi, Mamie! How's my most stubborn patient?

"Oh--the usual. Leo and the kids fuss over me so. As though that's all they had time for. If I had the strength, I would shoo them out of the house." "How's--" She paused to take a breath. "--Your family?"

Well, Kimmie has become captain of the Cheer Squad. She's due to have her braces removed soon. She can hardly wait. A while ago, there was a boy at school she had a crush--named Walter Nelson. She tried to sneak a kiss. Her braces got stuck on his. They had to maneuver their way to a telephone. She called Ron Stoppable, and he persuaded his mother to drive them to the dentist."

"Posey, she sounds like such a delight! I wish I could meet her." The humor and delight was evident in her voice.

"Her father would've sent that boy into space if he had caught them. And grounded her for the rest of the semester."

"Protective of his Kimmie-Cub?"

"Oh, Mamie, you have no idea."

"How did those kids pay for the dentist?"

Annette laughed. "Heaven only knows. Kimmie is capable of anything--but she does scrimp on her babysitting money. Maybe Ron paid for it--or got Rachel to."

"Kim and Ron are certainly close. Do you ever foresee anything--like romance--between those two?"

"I doubt it. Kimmie can be so boy-crazy, but Ron's just not her type. I think that's good in a way. Those two have something so special. I would hate to see it ruined by a crush and a break-up."

"And how are your twins?"

"Kimmie has a word for it. They 'tweak' her. They're as capable as their father at building rockets and as sly as a couple gangsters. They keep cracking Kimmie's password to her diary."

"Your life sounds so chaotic, Mamie--but I envy you."

"And how are your two twins?"

"Richard has nearly completed his art fellowship, and Daphne is serving as a programming consultant."

"Your two sound as achievement-oriented as my Kimmie."

"Oh, my goodness. their ability--their sheer intellect. They make me feel like a Kindergartener."

"Well--." Annette started to say, and could not proceed.

"Posey, you're beating around the bush."

"Mamie--"

"We both know. I don't have long."

"Mamie, I know I sound selfish, but--how will I live? How will I cope? We've grown so close."

"You have that wonderful family, Posey."

"But there's no one like you. I can tell you things--and you can give me answers--if I had what you have."

"You can have that, too. God's just aching to reveal Himself to you."

"If it were anyone but you, I would accuse them of excessive piety. But I know you, Mamie."

"You realize, Posey, that _I_ have no one like _you_. You've been God's gift to me. You made me feel like a person, not a victim. If it weren't for you--."

Both women struggled against the tears.

"What can I do, Mamie?"

"What you've always done. What you're doing now. Write. Call. Share your life. Pray."

A sudden resolve formed in Annette's heart. "I'm flying out. I can spend the last few weeks with you. I'll oversee your care personally. I can at least find adjust your drug dosages."

Mariah Bess was firm. "Posey! You have a practice--patients--a family. You were here over Christmas. You'll be here soon enough for my funeral."

The casualness with which her friend spoke of the closeness of her death tore at Annette's heart. But Mariah Bess was right. The cruel logic of it. She couldn't abandon her responsibilities. "Mamie, I won't see you again."

"Yes you will, my dearest friend. In a new world--a better world."

"Without you--I don't know if I have the faith."

"You'll find the faith."

And the two women talked as long as Mariah Bess's strength allowed.

_**Mother's Day 2001**_

Mariah Bess Harte passed away peacefully surrounded by family and friends.

The next day, Dr. Annette Possible flew to Japan to attend the funeral in Kenjijen.

_**August 2001**_

Leo Harte moved back to Upperton, Colorado, where he had grown up. His children enrolled in Upperton High School for the fall term.

_**September 11, 2001**_

The nation watched. Kim Possible watched with her parents from home. Ron Stoppable watched with his parents from home. Richard Harte watched with friends from school. Four passenger jets were hijacked and more than 3000 people died. For Richard it was like hearing once more of the cult attack that exposed his mother and thousands of others to toxic nerve gas--and watching her sicken and die.

_**winter term, 2002**_

Richard Harte began attending Middleton High School as a transfer student to participate in its exceptional arts curriculum program--and to observe Team Possible. His twin sister Daphne began attending in the fall of next school year.

_**fall term, 2002 **_

_**Spirit Week, Friday night, after the dance**_

Rich looked over at his sister as they were going home from the dance. "Sis? You're unusually quiet tonight--even for you."

Daphne waited long before answering, which was characteristic. "Ricky? Are you sure about us joining Kim Possible?"

"Yes--why do you ask?"

"Guess who I found tonight locked in the broom closet?"

Rich shrugged. "Um, I couldn't begin to guess."

"Ron Stoppable," Daphne said almost blandly.

Rich looked puzzled. "--Kim's partner."

Daphne stared silently at Rich.

"You're trying to tell me something. Did the "D" hall bullies do it?"

"No--it was her best friend and mission partner--Miss Kimberly Ann 'anything is possible for a' Possible. He was proving to be an embarrassment. I saw Kim dancing with Josh Mankey."

"I know him. Another art student."

"--And making goo-goo eyes at him. Ricky! She did this to her own mission teammate? Would I do that to you? "

Rich sighed. "I know. Kim has been in a profound state of infatuation all week over Josh. And Ron has been acting like the blend of an overprotective nanny and a jealous pen pal."

"Ricky, _look_ at her! Crushing on boy after boy! A clothing snob! Nervous about her popularity! The bare belly! She's _shallow_!" Daphne was disillusioned. "These two are the ones you admire so highly, Ricky. In particular Kim. Maybe she _can_ save the world in her spare time. Maybe she and Ron do have a rock-solid friendship. But do we want a spare-time heroine who's a fashionista, with a partner whose greatest accomplishment is either frequenting Bueno Nacho or losing his pants once a mission? Or maybe that's why they get along so well. She's a babysitter and he's a baby--although it's hard to tell who's more infantile."

"Kim is doing what we have yet to do, sis. Team Possible is out in the world preventing the evil plotters from winning. Team Harte is still trying to find its stride."

A single tear trickled down Daphne's cheek. "It's my first month here, and I've never felt as demeaned as I have this past week. Do you remember what they called me at Master Goro's boarding school in Kenjijen? 'Gaijin', 'Alien'. I was tall, light-skinned, and had waist length blond hair. You were shorter and had darker hair. You blended in. But I found solace because Master Goro was such an exceptional teacher Later we went to school in Tokyo, in Mom's last illness. Tokyo, with the most thriving sex trade of any major city in the world. We never saw such perversion. But I still found solace in the entire Japanese ethos of respect. It permeates the entire society.."

"I know," said Rich, "the _Rei_, the principle of respect in the Code of Bushido. We've studied it."

"We honored our teachers. And we strove for scholastic excellence. Where we lived--how we were raised--anything else was unthinkable. When we moved to Upperton, we enrolled in their high school. It wasn't Japan, but it still had an excellent academic reputation. And then we came here--."

"Yes. I think I know," said Rich.

"I made better grades at Upperton than Justine Flanner does here! You made better grades than Kim--and Josh! Ron? He cheats off Kim! Do you know the nicknames they gave us?"

"They call us the 'Bookends'. I'm the 'Artist'. You're the 'Librarian'."

"Do you know who gave us those names?"

"Kim."

"And have you heard the rumor Bonnie Rockwaller is spreading?"

"That we're a--couple."

"A _couple_? What we're accused of--it's _vile_! Ricky! We're better than this! We could be in college! Cum Laude! I could be in engineering school! I could be working with Wade--except that I might have to talk to Miss 'Anything is Possible'! You could be in seminary. Do you know proud that would make Dad? You could be serving God--at Mom Load's street mission--or anywhere!"

"Daph--we're already helping Mom Load."

"Then we could continue doing our own missions--recon for Wade, Global Justice."

"We're already doing all that." Rich half-smiled. "That's our extracurricular activities--although I doubt they'll list it in the yearbook."

"But you want to do more," Daphne said regretfully. "You want to deal directly with villains."

"Yes. And you know the reasons why. I love you, Daph--not like Bonnie says, of course--and if putting up with all this is too painful, I'll understand if you want to go back to doing what we used to do."

"Let me sleep on it, Ricky. Give me the weekend to think about this."

On Monday Daphne took her brother aside. "Because I love you, Ricky, and for Mom's sake, I'll put up with the Cheer Squad and the Food Chain. We'll finish what we began." She reached over and tousled his unruly hair. "I know the noble heart that beats in that chest. I _am_ your older sister--by a minute. And if I don't stay around to look after you, who will?" She tried to hold down the unruly cowlick. "Only a sister could put up with that strand of hair that keeps standing up."

"Thanks, sis. Like you said. Like St. Paul says. We'll finish the race set before us."

_**Spring, 2005**_

It had been a busy and emotionally intense second semester of Kim Possible's junior year. It included her accidental implantation with the Moodulator computer chip, her dating relationship with Erik Drake, and her battle with Dr. Drakken, Shego, the synthodrones, and the Diabloes. It climaxed with the Prom and her dating relationship with her mission partner, Ron Stoppable--she thought. That was before the intrusion of Team Harte into her life.

Actually, Team Harte--or Daphne and Richard Harte--had been around since Kim's freshman year.

Richard Harte was a little taller than Kim, slender build, narrow face, tousled brown hair with an untamable cowlick in the back. His deep brown eyes were framed by wire-rim glasses. He was a transfer student from Upperton High School. He was an art student. The gossip went that he was in a very serious dating relationship with Cynthia Larsen, a junior at Upperton High and captain of the Cheer Squad. She was every bit as studious, athletic, and popular as Kim. The gossip especially noticed the age difference between Rich and Cyndi. It ended suddenly when Mr. Larsen's occupation took him out of the country. Cyndi left Upperton with her father.

Rich suddenly appeared the second semester of freshman year. Kim noticed him in art appreciation class. She would hear his name every day when attendance was taken but she could never remember it. The gossip became more detailed. He was a pastor's kid, a devout Christian. He was well-read, and could hold his own in an intellectual and philosophical discussion. He didn't try out for any school sports, but for the compulsory phys. ed. courses, he signed up for self-defense and gymnastics. This time the gossip was not in the halls among the student body. It was in the teachers' lounge. Those who knew commented quietly that his agility and martial arts ability equaled those of Kim Possible herself.

His sister Daphne transferred to Middleton sophomore year. Blonde, blue-eyed, her hair cut short to the nape of the neck, she favored gold-tinted wire-rim glasses. If Richard was about Christianity and intellectualism, Daphne was about Christianity, modesty, and stuck-up-ness.

It was a time of low-cut tops, bare midriffs, and low-rise pants--except for Daphne Harte. If she wore a skirt, it went to the knee--or lower. She usually wore pantsuits. If she took the jacket off, she wore a fitted white shirt--tucked in at the waist, buttoned up to the neck. No cleavage showing, no navel showing. She always answered in class. She fit Mr. Barkin's no-nonsense style perfectly "Miss Harte, you're my finest student," he would say. Her quietness, her studiousness, her neatness--if she tried, she could not have impressed him more.

She actually bowed her head and _prayed_ during lunch. Well, the food Middleton High cafeteria served could certainly use it. She spent time with her brother, between classes, at games.

Kim tried to be open-minded. She tried to look at them as people and not as stereotypes. And she started to see them as people.

It reminded Kim of herself and Ron. She almost wished she got along that well with her own brothers. She would have liked to know the new girl better.

But then she noticed--how alike they looked. While she was cheering the games, she would see them sitting together in the bleachers.

"Look--the pastor's kids," sneered Bonnie. She taunted Kim. "Your friend, the Artist. Is he the one you're crushing on?"

"Bonnie, you _know _I'm going to the dance with Josh," retorted Kim.

"Yeah, well you see who pastor's Kid is taking to the dance--his own sister, Little Miss Priss, the Librarian,"

Kim saw them in the bleachers. "It's odd," she said half to herself, "They look so alike."

"Like BF-GF," goaded Bonnie. "Boyfriend-Girlfriend."

"Bonnie!" reprimanded Kim. "So not!" She thought. "They look kinda cute together. Like a couple bookends."

Bonnie overheard and got another jab in. "Yeah. So they can hold up all the Bible versions they have at home."

It was an innocent little remark. Kim hardly meant anything by it. _I really should take the time to meet them,_ Kim said to herself. _I __**am **__on the student council welcoming committee. The guy and Josh are both art students. His sister must feel lonely. Maybe the four of us could hang together._

And so with the best of intentions, Kim resolved to make Rich and Daphne's acquaintance--just Rich had resolved to make Kim and Ron's acquaintance.

But the corrosive tongue of Bonnie Rockwaller had done its worst. By Monday, the Food Chain had a new target. The "Bookends"--and Kim got all the credit. Kim was baffled by the venomous glare she got from Daphne as she said "Hi" on Monday morning.

Years later, after all the ugly details were sorted out, Rich would comment, "As the Scripture says," (that was another thing that could tweak Kim badly--the constant quotes), "A little yeast can affect an entire lump of unleavened bread dough. A little evil can outweigh much good."

But Ron, who was learning his Old Testament, agreed. It was So The Truth.

When Felix Renton came to Middleton, Rich and he became good friends. They shared a mutual interest in fantasy and science fiction. It used to be that Ron was the most friendless kid in high school--but having Kim for a friend made up for that, he said. Now the only people more friendless were the Harte twins.

And so high school continued. Missions, Cheer Squad, school, the Tweebs, babysitting, Bueno Nacho, Josh Mankey

Then came a series of missions: rescuing Nakasumi-san, rescuing her father, the undercover at Club Bermuda Triangle--and meeting Erik. And in the middle of it all, the Artist made an impression on Kim. Rich tweaked her--badly.

When was the tweak? That was easy. It was the very day before the Prom: she and Tara were in the hall after cheerleading practice. Kim was going to meet Erik.

There he was. The Artist, the Bookend, the Librarian's brother, the Holy Roller, the Bible Thumper, the Born Again Fanatic. A whole host of unkind nicknames scrolled through her head.

He called after her, "Kim!"

Tara turned hesitantly looked at Kim. "What does he want?"

"I don't know. Don't look at him. Just keep going."

"Kimberly Ann!"

God! What a dweeb! What was his deal? What could he possible want? Please, God, she said to herself, get me out of here, away from him!

And then Richard Leo Harte did something so brave, so foolhardy, so brazen, and so reckless, it still took Kim's breath away. It was something no one ever before dared, not Bonnie, not the Tweebs, not her parents, not even Shego, her gutsiest adversary.

_**"K.P.!"**_ he called out.

It worked. Kim halted in her tracks. She started to boil. Tara glanced at Kim's face, turned white, and scampered down the hall around the corner.

Kim could feel the vein in her head throbbing. She slowly turned and stared daggers at him. She was like a volcano ready to erupt. Venting her temper, she slammed the books she was carrying to the floor, and everyone in the hall jumped--except him!

She wanted to punch his lights out. And he stood there smiling! It was hard to make the words come out. "Dammit! How _dare_ you--who the _hell_ do you think you are--there's only one person I let call me that!" For the first time in her life, she was swearing.

"Only one person--your BF. Would that be your boyfriend--or your best friend?"

"You Bible-spouting--freak! What gives you the right?"

"Are you missing what's in front of you? Are you choosing who looks pretty instead of who's loyal?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Who has your heart, Kim? Your closest friend or your prom date?"

In spite of herself, Kim was being drawn in to talking with him. "Is that what this is about? We talked last night! Ron is okay with Erik--not that it's your business, Mr.--Artist!"

Rich laughed and Kim felt ready to vent all over again. "Do you even know my name, Kim? Do you even know what you're letting float out of your life? 'There is a friend that sticks closer than a brother.' 'People look on the outward appearance; true wisdom looks on the heart.' "

It sounded like Bible quotes, and Kim had enough. _"__**Ohhh!**__ Stay out of my life and stay away from me!"_

Erik met Kim at her locker. "Hey, Kim--whoa, you look--uh--"

"Tweaked?"

"Seriously tweaked."

"I am so beyond tweaked--I can hardly talk! That--guy--the 'Artist'--"

"Richard Harte? I know with him. I'll talk with him."

"Would you? That would rock." Kim looked adoringly at her boyfriend. "And _you_ rock!"

But Erik was not what he seemed--as she would soon discover.

And Ron spoke the words that would change her life. "There's someone out there for you--in here."

And she had gasped with astonishment. And after the battle was done and the golden moment at the dance she had seen Richard and Daphne but thought less than nothing about it.

They had gone to London for a glorious week's vacation, guests of the United Kingdom, all expenses paid by the United States government for their successful efforts in combating Drakken's Little Diablo plot. They had met the Queen and toured all the sites. It was a wonderful time Kim had with her new boyfriend.

Until Ron dropped a bombshell on their last night in London. "K.P., there's something I should tell you. I saw Daphne and Richard Harte around town on Prom Night--in mission suits."

Kim stared uncomprehending. "Huh? Another Team in MIddleton? LIke Team Go?"

"No. Like our classmates. The Bookends. The Librarian and the Artist. They do missions."

_**"What?"**_ said Kim stupefied.

"There's more." Ron braced himself. "They--or at least he--wants to--um--join Team Possible."

Kim exploded. _**"Those two? Are you crazy?"**_

Ron bravely bore the storm in silence. He could feel Rufus quivering in his pocket.

Kim left Ron in a huff. Next day on the plane home, she barely spoke to Ron. Kim felt ashamed by her behavior of the night before, and she was still tweaked. She would have preferred that they sit apart, but their tickets were for adjoining seats.

Ron had given Kim the window seat. As their hands were close on the armrest, Ron edged his hand toward hers. She withdrew hers, and he got the message.

Kim jarred awake at one point. They had fallen asleep with their heads leaning on each other. She sat up and that jarred Ron awake. She shifted and leaned her head away from him on the pillow.

Kim got tired of saying, "Excuse me," when she had to go to the bathroom. "Let's switch seats," she commanded him after returning one time. Ron instantly moved over to the window seat. Kim had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into tears.

Kim sat staring glumly at the aisle, other people, and the flight attendants for the rest of the flight. Ron was nothing but considerate, gallant, and courteous. And she felt worthless.

Ron gallantly held his bladder for the rest of the flight, so as to not make Kim move.

At Tri-City International Airport, they got their luggage and left the terminal. Kim finally broke her silence. "Ron--you've been so sweet--I've been such a bitch--please--I need to take a separate ride back home--I promise I'll think this thing through."

Who could resist the entreaty in those shimmering green eyes? "Sure--that's bondiggetty."

It tore the heart out of her to see the torture in those honest brown eyes. Kim insisted that Ron take the first cab, but Ron refused. As the cab door closed, Kim held her palm up to the window, and Ron held his palm up on the other side of the glass. He managed a wan smile to her as her cab pulled away.

Kim called Monique from the back seat and blurted the story out. "Mon--what am I gonna do?"

"Girl--better brace yourself," warned Monique. And she related the story. The day of the Prom, after Rich had called Kim "K.P.", Erik had cornered Rich in an empty classroom. Felix had first seen Rich, then Erik, and unlike Monique and Kim, Felix did not trust Erik any higher than he could climb a ladder. Felix's wondrous wheelchair could enable him to do many things, but allowing a paraplegic to climb a ladder was not one of them.

There was something about Erik--Felix couldn't put his finger on it--but he heard about the incident with Rich and Kim, and he feared for Rich's safety. As he approached the classroom, Felix heard the sound of splintering wood. Alarmed, he kicked his motorized wheelchair into overdrive. What he saw when he got to the door left him aghast. Erik was swinging a wooden chair down on Rich's head, and Rich shattered the chair with a kung fu kick. The two faced each other like beasts of prey. Felix had seen video footage of Kim and Shego fighting, but the real-life version was so--primal. They must have heard Felix, because both jerked their heads to face the doorway. Erik became Kim's smiling boyfriend and Rich became the quiet art student.

Erik looked around at the broken desk furniture. "Wow! Can you believe the vandalism? And on Prom Night?" Erik looked at his watch. "Hey, I gotta go. Get my tux, Kim's flowers." He passed Felix in the doorway and smiled. "Hey, man, hello. And Rich--Kim doesn't want your help Kim doesn't need your help--anymore than she wanted or need Ron. Let me take care of Kimmie and you take care of, say, your sister?" With just a hint of malice, he added, "Good talkin' with you, Rich, We have to do this again."

"Rich!" Felix babbled panic-stricken, "For the love of God--what happened?

"What you saw, Felix. That's what happened."

"You gotta tell Kim what kind of whack job Erik is!"

"I tried. And I nearly got my head caved in." And he looked intently at Felix. "Felix--do you believe in God? In prayer?"

Oh, no, Felix thought; he had dreaded the day it would happen; Rich was going to "witness" about religion to him.

He screwed up his courage and boldly declared, "Yes--yes, I do!"

And Rich said something that left Felix's mouth agape: "Then pray--pray for our friends Kim and Ron, for this school, for this city. Something big is happening. And if Kim and Ron fall, then Daphne and I are the last line of defense. And Felix--don't tell anyone this happened."

But Felix told Monique.

And now Monique told Kim. "Girl, what are you gonna do? Is this gonna turn into a turf war? Are you gonna take him on--like a fight to the finish? Or are you gonna take him on--like partnership?"

Kim threw up the hand that wasn't holding the phone. "Mon--how should _I _know? He hides for three years in the town where I live and go to school. Then he pisses me off and thinks its funny and he wants to do missions with me? How do I know he's not another Erik? I have to process this, Mon."

"Call me, sister--and good luck processing."

When Kim got home, she was greeted by her mother, who was shocked the she was not with Ron.

"Mom, something happened." And she tried to explain.

Mrs.Dr.P.'s eyes went wide with greater shock. "What were their names, Kimmie?"

"Richard and Daphne Harte."

"And how long have they been going to MIddleton High?"

"Oh, since sophomore year."

Mrs.Dr.P. looked aghast. "Kimmie, do you know whose children they are?"

Kim shook her head.

Annette swallowed. "Do you remember the terminal patient who I became such good friends with?"

"When you went to Japan that Christmas? Yes. Um, you called her 'Mamie' and she called you 'Posey'. Mrs..."

"--Mariah Bess Harte. I met her children when I was in Japan. Daphne and Richard Harte."

And Kim was aghast. "Mom--Ron says they've been doing missions _secretly_. Like they're here to spy on me." Kim grabbed her mother's hands. "What's-his-name--Rich--tried to warn me about Erik before the Prom. All he did was weird me out. Mom--for the first time in my life, I think I'm really scared. What do I do?"

"Kimmie, if he wants to--do missions together, I would listen to what he has to say."

"Mom--I'm not sure that's what I wanted to hear--I feel dizzy."

Kim lowered her shades and lay on her bed. She paged Wade.

"Kim, you're back from England! What's the sitch?"

"Wade, I so need a favor. Can you do a background check on a couple students here at Middleton High? Daphne and Richard Harte."

Wade became very still. "Rich told me he had talked to you. Kim, I don't need to do a check. I know them."

Kim sat up in bed. This was the final--the last straw--the _something._ "Does everyone know these two but _me_?" Kim almost wailed. _Amp down, girl!_ she told herself. She wanted to learn about the Harte twins. Well obviously, Somebody was granting her wish. "Tell me about them, Wade. Short and sweet."

"What can I say? I deal with a lot of people online, Kim. Other webmasters, other inventors, even other people doing missions. The people I hook you up with for rides, the people you've helped on other missions. Daphne and Rich happen to be a couple of them."

"Bottom line, Wade. Do you trust them?"

Wade became even quieter. "Gonna tell you a story, Kim. Ma and Pops ran the storefront mission and soup kitchen in Lowerton. A kid--living on the street--came in strung out. Wanted money. Shot Pops."

The short chopped way Wade talked. Kim had never heard it from him. "Oh, Wade," she whispered.

I was grieving over Pops and Daphne was grieving over her mom."

"I didn't know your father died that way, Wade."

"I guess I just never thought about it. I had hate in my heart. Daphne got in touch with me in a chat room. The words she told me took my hate away. Without her I could've grown up into a mad genius, like the guys you and Ron face off. Drakken, Duff, or Dementor. Or like the Unabomber. I would tell you more, but she asked what we said to each other stay to between us."

Kim felt so selfish. So many people endured so much pain and she was tweaked about little things. But she had to ask. "Wade--do you feel closer to her than you do to me?" There was a little girl hurt in her voice.

"Kim! No way!" Wade thought a moment. "Listen. How do you & Monique say it? So not! It's not that I let her get closer to me than I let you get. It's that you let _me_ get close to _you_." Wade spread his hands. "Look at me. What do you see? I'm a ten year old with a brain like Einstein. Do you know how many child prodigies are messed up emotionally? When I went to the school, I met prejudice on every level. I was the fat little smart black kid. And I could never be a brother to my own race. Computers, higher learning, college? That was a white upper class thing. And when I was going for my doctorate, I met the same prejudice from the professors. By the time I'm your age, I'll have one or two more PhD's--but I'm stuck indoors because I have agoraphobia. What keeps me from staring at the four walls? It's being your webmaster and your tech backup. I'm not a little weird kid who sits in front of the monitor to you--a nerdlinger, like Shego calls me. In your eyes I rock!"

Kim cupped her hand over her mouth.

"When Pops died, I wanted to die. Daphne took that away. But you give me a reason to live. You rock, Kim Possible!"

Kim was laughing and crying at once. "Oh, Wade, I could so kiss you!"

Kim processed what she heard. Their mother had her mother's admiration. He had Felix's admiration. She had Wade's admiration. She finally consented to meet these two mission wannabe's. It was at a neutral location. One of Drakken's old lairs, ironically.

Wade wanted to fill her in. "There are some things you should about them. Daphne loves her brother like you love Ron--before you dated him. She gets mad when he does goofball stuff. But she gets madder when someone tries to mistreat him. She's protective--like fierce. She's a control freak--like you--and I mean that in a good way. She is constantly reorganizing stuff--even the files on my computer. And now Rich. He's a know-it-all. He would make the perfect game show contestant. He can quote stuff off the top of his head like no one I ever saw. It's amazing, but it can bug you, too. And he has a thing about mythology and stories. The way he talks and acts. Sometimes you think he's from another era. Daphne says he has a thousand year old soul. And he has a save-the-world thing going on in his heart as big as yours. He literally wants to save the world. And he sees helping you as the way to help make that happen."

There was something Kim had to do before day's end. Flirting with disaster by leaving the house so close to curfew, Kim _flew _to Ron's house on her jet pack, and flew into his arms as he opened the door. "I had to say it--before I could go to bed--'' she gulped. "You've won my heart, Ron Stoppable."

Ron's face lit up like a sun lamp. "Booyah!" It was their once-a-day ritual, and it had not been said since the previous day in London.

"I'm so sorry--of course we can see if it'll work--us and them--I'm such a prick."

"K.P! No you're not! I am!"

"Ron Stoppable! Don't be silly!"

And so amid tears, kisses, and hugs, they reconciled.

So Rich had tweaked Kim. Then he terrified her. How? That was at the meeting of Team's Possible and Harte.

Kim and Ron showed up in their mission suits. Daphne and Ron showed up in their mission suits. Kim and Daphne glared at each other like two rival felines

Kim's rivalry with Bonnie Rockwaller over captaincy of the Cheer Squad was bad enough. But Bonnie usually tripped herself up. And here somebody showed up who was a rival over what Kim had considered sacred ground: her missions. The mere sight of these two in mission suits made her want to explode.

Daphne felt the same. Like Kim, she had her fill of being put down by Bonnie Rockwaller for most of high school. But unlike Kim, she had suppressed any temperamental outburst--for the sake of her brother, who had begged her to bear patiently with all the Food Chain hostility. As far as Daphne was concerned, Kim was hardly any better than Bonnie. The preoccupation with boyfriends, wardrobe, popularity. And what right did Kim have to disrespect Rich? She didn't have the slightest idea of what Team Harte was doing out of sight of the public eye.

Each girl considered the other Team latecomers to the mission vocation and her own Team the rightful holders of the first place.

Both Ron and Rich could sense a catfight, so they hastily concluded with the pleasantries, like shaking hands and saying hello.

But when Kim took Rich's hand...

Her vision blurred. She blinked. It was a knight standing before her, wearing a plumed helmet, chain mail and a tunic with a lion coat-of-arms, clasping her hand. He carried a shield with the same coat-of-arms. He dropped to one knee and took off his helmet. It was Rich. Kim gulped. She looked down at herself, at her arms and legs. She was still wearing her mission suit. Panic was setting in. It had happened. She was losing it. She was delusional.

The Knight who looked like Rich drew his broadsword, and laid it at her feet. He took her hand as lightly as a man might hold a flower petal. She glanced around, fearing for her sanity. Daphne and Ron were not visible.

He held her hand with both of his. His touch was light as a butterfly's wing. She felt the warmth through her leather glove and his mailed gauntlets, and she felt the terror drain from her.

"Who-who are you?" she asked timidly.

"Your servant, my Lady. What is your will?"

"W-why are you asking? Wh-what do you want from me?"

The Knight's deep brown eyes bore into hers. "To hear from your own lips what every true knight under God longs to hear. That the Lady upon whom he has set his heart will accept his undying devotion. For a knight who has no Queen to command him is like a sword that has no hand to wield it. He must have a noble lady of surpassing goodness to inspire his deeds and rejoice his heart. Otherwise he is only an empty suit of armor. Therefore I offer you my sword, my heart, and my life. All that I have and all that I am."

Kim's terror was gone, but she was completely bewildered. "Y-you've set your heart on me? What d-do you mean?"

The Knight bowed his head and touched his forehead to her hand. "Not as a spouse, my Lady, but as a humble subject who swears allegiance to his Queen."

But Kim protested, stuttering. "But--why _me_? Why choose _me_?"

The Knight looked quizzical "My Lady. Why not you? Surely those who are favored in the light of your presence will attest to your virtue, your kindness, your courage--your love."

"You see all that--in _me_?" But she blinked, and the vision was gone. Rich stood before her, still grasping her hand, looking as dazed as Kim felt.

The two Teams parted company on semi-friendly terms. Rich had stated his proposal: a merger, with Kim as official leader of the combined Team, out of deference to her greater experience in missions in the public eye. Ron thought it was a "badical" idea. The two girls did not kill each other, and both Ron and Rich thought this was reason for celebration.

But Kim came away stunned--and scared. The experience seemed so real. What kind of person was Richard Harte, to provoke this sort of response? And he had come away just as shaken. What had happened to him?

When was Kim touched by Rich? It was only a few weeks ago. Kim and Ron had been invited over to the Harte household for dinner.

It had been a wonderful evening--like no hostility had ever existed between Kim and the Harte twins. Ron helped Leo Harte with preparing the food. It turned out that Daphne was a fan of pro wrestling.

"Pain King could pin Steel Toe in a minute!" Daphne insisted. "He could put the hurt on him without trying!"

"So not!" protested Ron. "Steel Toe could drop-kick him right out of the ring!"

Rich and Kim were in his study.

"Every place we've ever lived, Dad has allowed me to have my own study--much like his own pastor's study. It's a place where I can paint, read, compose my thought."

She sat beside him. "After Ron and I got back from London, Mom filled me in your mom--the terminal illness--I'm so sorry, Rich."

He took off his glasses, and looked serious. "I watched Mom die bit by bit, inch by inch. At first she would go for months at a time without worsening of symptoms. Then it became weekly. Then day by day. And I couldn't do a thing!"

Impulsively she laid her hand on his wrist.

"Where we grew up, in Kenjijen, there was an older man, Ichoro Kansumi-san." He exaggerated the pronunciation, and they both smiled. "He told us stories--Japanese myth, Greek myth, even the old heroic stories: King Arthur, Robin Hood. I suppose I get my mania for knighthood from all the stories. As I got older, we moved from Kenjijen to Tokyo so we could be near a major medical center for Mom's treatments. I attended the public schools. I saw real life. I saw kids getting in trouble. And it was always the same. They're grieving the death of a parent or friend, and the only they can deal with is to act out; drugs, violence, theft. They enter a jungle where there are human animals that eat them alive. They make them into little soldiers for their gang, like the Venerable Master did for his countless followers--those poor idiots who set off the nerve gas bombs in the subway.

"I know," said Kim softly. "Even here in Middleton, I see it."

"But do you know what else I see?" said Rich, "are kids who become, you know, doctors, because they want to find the cure for the disease that killed their parent, or friend. And I figure this. What can I do to cure the thing that killed Mom? Daph and I have--certain talents. I read about supers--even ones without the super-powers--like Daredevil, and Batman."

Kim became attentive. "I think I know where you're going with this."

Rich smiled with some embarrassment. "Good. Because I always sound like a nut case when I hear myself. The stories I heard growing up kicked in. Being a super. A covert operative. Whatever you want to call it. At first, I thought to myself, I'm completely insane. But I brought it up to Daphne, and she was interested. I took that as a sign. We did some little stuff while we were still in Japan. Then Mom died, and we moved to America in the summer of 2001. We started school at Upperton in September--."

"--And you saw it here in America," interjected Kim. "9-11."

"It was like a flashback. I saw people become unglued. In Asia, they have this going on all the time. But here, no one was ready. But on the same day, they were telling about this United Flight 93."

"The airplane that crashed in Virginia," said Kim. "They heard over the cell phones about the Twin Towers, and they thought they might be heading for Washington."

"The last words people heard, Kim--'Let's roll.' When I heard that, I knew what it was I had to do. I had to 'roll'. Daphne had already made contact with Wade. Again, we started out small. It was mainly reconnaissance and surveillance. We got noticed--by Global Justice."

"Like I did," said Kim.

Rich stared. "Really?"

Kim nodded. "I was impressed by Dr. Director, but their top agent, Will Du, was a piece of work. He made me glad that I had Ron."

Rich chuckled. "Oh, yeah. We graciously declined the offer to join. But I still wanted do more than just track the villains. Then Wade told us about someone else--."

"--Someone he was doing tech support for--" added Kim.

"--Someone doing missions--"

"Oh, Rich, this is too freaky!"

"--He told us about you--Kimpossible-dot-com, Team Possible, the whole deal."

"And so you transferred to Middleton High. But Rich, you were attending here for two whole years. Why did you wait so long?"

Rich looked pained. "To be honest, Kim, we had doubts. You and Daph didn't exactly become the best of friends."

Kim smiled embarrassedly. "Oh, God. I must have seemed like Bonnie."

Rich shook his head. "No. Not even close. But there was another thing. I saw it from the first day I started here. You and Ron had chemistry. You two clicked."

Kim laughed and blushed. "Are you saying we already looked like a couple?"

"I'm saying you two were one. There was a bond. In the worst moments, of detention, and 'tweak-ness, and aggravation, that bond never failed. And I was absolutely afraid of disturbing the bond."

"You really care about what happens to Ron and I, don't you?"

Rich nodded.

"Why?"

"Just call me sentimental--hung up on the stories of chivalry, the knight rescues the princess, they lived happily ever after, on and on. I really envy you two, as you grow in your own mutual awareness--as you discover each other."

"Aren't you overdramatizing, Rich?"

"Kim, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You two are on the verge of something so astounding. And the last thing I want to do is interfere. Daph and I have been under the cover for a long time. We can go back to being undercover again. There are a dozen groups on the landscape: Team Go, Team Impossible--if you feel like it's not working, say the word, and we're gone. We'll go back to being Team Harte and we can collaborate on an occasional mission."

"Rich, I'm hearing what you say, and it's like--I get what you mean." Kim tried to collect her thoughts. "It's like this. Mom understands brain surgery. Not just memorizing the facts, but being really _into _it--it's what she's all about. Daddy understands rockets. Wade is into computers. What you just told me--it puts into words exactly how I feel about missions. And I've met dozens of people who do what we do--Dr. Director, Hego--and it's always about duty, being the team player, and all that. But how you put it--it's people. It's a good and evil thing. You make it sound so--."

"--Grandiose? Melodramatic?"

"Rich, c'mon! I'm serious!"

"Sorry, Kim."

Kim was silent for a moment--so silent that Rich broke the ice.

"Did I offend you, Kim?

"No--but I--I've got this idea." Kim suddenly seemed animated. "I may be jumping the gun--but I need someone who thinks like me--someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone whose head is in the game. Will you be--like--my second-in-command?

Rich frowned. "Kim--I'm honored. But--what about Ron?"

Kim frowned. "Ron's already my boyfriend. And you have the decision-making experience. And I do mission decisions based on logic. It's like Mom choosing a partner for her medical practice. She loves Daddy, but she chooses another surgeon, not a rocket scientist."

Rich nodded. "Sounds logical. But do me this favor. Ask Ron what he thinks."

Just then they heard a noise in the doorway. They looked up and saw Daphne and Ron. Daphne had cleared her throat and was looking sharply at Kim and Rich.

And Kim and Rich both noticed that her hand was still on his hand. Hastily each withdrew their hand.

Ron was pointing to his watch. "Curfew, K.P. It's the Black Hole if we don't get you home." And he nudged Rich. "By the way--K.P.'s boyfriend is down with being you being K.P.'s like second-in-command. No ego prob."

The evening ended well. She felt that the two groups were feeling comfortable and trusting of each other.

They did some missions together. Rich was as good as his word. In a battle sitch, he and Daphne complimented Kim's efforts and followed Kim's directions. It even rubbed off on Ron. He was becoming a better, more competent, less whiney partner.

But there were other times--if three was a crowd, four felt like being in a sardine can. An intimacy she felt with Ron on Prom Night, when they fought together, danced together, and romanced together was missing.

It was in this mixed mindset that she called a meeting at their official booth at Bueno Nacho. Kim wanted to put the question to her team--to show them and herself that, like a marriage, she wanted it to work. Should she go to New York with her mother, to do this TV show with Mary Jane Watson?

But the contradictions. The three closest people in her life: her best friend, Ron, her best female friend, Monique, and her favorite parent, Mom, had all shifted in their relation to her. If things were awk-weird with Ron, she could go to Monique or Mom. And if things were out of order with Mom, she could go to Ron--and so on, and so forth. But Monique was dating Felix. Ron was dating--her. And Mom was the cause of her most recent tweak. And in their place were--the Hartes. The arrival of them in her life had rekindled memories of "Mamie" in her mother's heart. Mom was almost acting like Kim had acted when she was stressing about a Prom Date. Ron and Rich had grown close--almost like brothers. Kim had thought that all the resentment between her and the Pastor's Kids were healed--but she wasn't so sure. Monique was getting gossip before Kim was, from--Rich. On impulse, Kim had put Rich in a position on Team Possible that Ron had previously held. Hell, there was "second-in-command" until Team Harte had joined. It felt like things wee getting away from her. Why not let Bonnie join? She had done a mission with Kim against Dementor. Invite the whole fam to enlist--including the Tweebs who wanted to wrestle snakes every Christmas. Invite Nana, who had done missions in _her _youth. That way Kim could command an entire little regiment--until her Curfew. Then she could go to her room with Panda-Roo

They met.

Team Possible was in their usual booth at Bueno Nacho; Kim and Ron seated on one, Rich and his sister Daphne seated on the other

Rich took Daphne's hand. They bowed their heads for just a moment. It had been their coping mechanism ever since their youth at the Japanese boarding school, they had said.

And just as Daphne, and Rich, would quietly say grace, so now would Ron. He bowed his head and murmured quietly, "Blessed art Thou, oh Lord our God, King of the world, Who bringest forth to us bread from the earth," while holding hands with Kim.

That was another thing that had happened since the Prom that she had mixed feelings about. Ron had rediscovered his faith--not that he had ever really lost it. She had gone with his family a few times to synagogue--or temple--or whatever it was called. But he had embraced it again with a sincerity that almost rivaled his love for her. He assured her that is was a result of dating. He was thinking about marriage and children. It made her feel giddy that he took such issues seriously, but she wondered sometimes if it wasn't a result of knowing Daphne and Rich.

They had their food, and discussed while Rufus scarfed the leftovers.

"There's my dilemma, group. Stay home, or go with my Mom."

Daphne was practical and no-nonsense. "It might be the correct thing. When I pray about a thing, I find God sometimes guides me by opening a door, or closing a door. If the opportunity is there, that might be a sign. I also feel a peace about it."

There Daphne went, bringing in religion and divine guidance. Kim went to church, too. So why did she feel like a backslider compared with the pastor's kids? Kim knew Daphne hadn't done it deliberately.

It was an "open door." And the irony was, at one time, Kim would have leapt the chance to model clothes, to visit a place as cool, as sophisticated, as New York. But she didn't want it. She wanted to remain home, and be close to Ron. As Ron had once said, the worst week was the one he spent at camp, away from her. She felt like she now knew what he was talking about.

And Rich had to cap the night with one of his quotes--from Shakespeare. " 'There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune,' as Brutus said, in the play Julius Caesar. It's like catching the wave while surfing."

Kim so got the drift. No need to make the girl feel ignorant, Mr. Bookend.

The Harte twins left early. They had an even earlier curfew than Kim--and it was their own, not their father's.

And Daphne hadn't said it, but when she mentioned going on trips with her mother, Kim couldn't miss the inference. Kim still _had_ a mother. Lucky Kim.

Ron heartily embraced Rich as though they were long-lost brothers--in fact, they called each other "Bro". Imagine--a born-again Christian and a Jew. Kim wondered--when would Rich start "evangelizing" her and Ron? For a long time, she just stared down at the table.

"K.P.? It's awfully quiet for you," said Ron tentatively.

"I don't know. It's just--."

Ron noticed her hopeless expression. "K.P., what is it?" It was so unlike her. He hadn't seen her this distraught since the Moodulator thing

"This was supposed to be our time. You and me. And it's like things keep coming up--almost like a conspiracy. Pop Pop Porter buys out Bueno Nacho and wants to make you an up-and-coming manager. Mom gets it into her head that we need mother-daughter quality time. One thing is taking you away from me and the other thing is taking me away from you."

"Kim, we've got our whole lives. It's just our summer vacation."

"When does the rest of our lives start? When does it get to be quality time for us?"

"There's still missions. That's pretty much our own time."

"Don't you see? We don't even have that any more. Not since we took on the Sunday School kids."

"Kim, that sounds bitter."

"I feel like I have a right to be bitter. I know. I sound childish. I let them join."

"You trusted my judgment. I persuaded you. And I didn't screw up. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Kim fumed. "I just wanted it to be us. I wanted to start making amends for the way I ignored you for so long."

"You are making amends. We're a couple," Ron insisted.

"It's not the same thing! I saw you when Erik and I passed you on his motorcycle. I saw you when he pushed me on the swings--like you used to do--and you were all alone on the seesaw. I saw you on TV when you were losing everything you cared about. I thought you meant Bueno Nacho. Now I know it was me you meant. I admit it. I'm selfish--for you and me. I know Rich is your best friend--like a brother to you."

"Second best--you're my best friend, K.P."

"And I'm glad he's with the team--but that's the trouble with people who are so sure about everything: they just give out answers! I feel so unsure, so scared."

"K.P., I'm worried about you." Concern showed in Ron's face. "I swear to God, when you grabbed my hand at the Prom, it's like I became brand new; I feel braver, more confidant; but it seems like you lost your confidence since then; it's like I sucked it out of you." He shook his head. "God, that sounds weird; but you really do cry more, you sound less sure that you used to--"

"Ron! Can you blame me? This whole spring has been so stressful! I was just worried about finding a date to the Prom! Bonnie was on my case--I was half _hoping_ you would ask me to be your date, and half _afraid_ you would ask me--my head was so stuck in the whole Food Chain-Social Ladder-status bullshit that I was afraid my best friend would embarrass me--and you were bummed out and wouldn't talk to me--and my father was kidnapped by Drakken--and this new boy shows up who I just fall madly in love with--the feelings I had for him then are like the feelings I have for you now--and if that isn't so bizarre and unreal--_dammit_--he was a _synthrodrone_--he wasn't _human_--this was only a few months ago--I'm freaking out--aren't you?"

Ron could only shake his head bewilderedly. "K.P.--I'm past it."

"You're 'past it'? I broke your heart--and you can just deal with it?"

"Kim--I'm cool--I don't feel like I have to--"

"To what?" Kim was becoming frantic.

And Ron was clueless what to do. He just blurted; "Yes, it hurt then! And this hurts now! When you hurt, I hurt too!"

She hung her head. "Are you gonna punk out on me, too?"

"No--like I said once--I still have both shoulders for you to cry on. What do you need?"

"Just hold me--let me know there's at least one thing in my life that I can feel safe about--at least one person who understands me."

She wept quietly and clung to Ron like a child; and Ron, who felt like he understood Kim less than ever, could only do what he always did best: whatever his beloved K.P. was asking of him.

His arms settled about her shoulders and he drew her close; he stroked her hair and prayed for her in his heart, drawing upon his heritage, as he always did when he was most serious. _Adonai Elohenu--Oh Lord our God, Blessed art Thou. Help me do the right thing. Help me be what Kim needs. _

_**TO BE CONTINUED **_

So there you have it. Everyone has issues. Mary Jane Watson, Mrs.Dr.P, Kim & Ron, and Daphne & Rich.

We're done with the flashbacks--I think. We've laid the foundation of the story. Next chpt., we're gonna start to "roll".

Until then, Vaya con Dios.


	5. Chapter 5

This story came to me as a simple little plot bunny a couple years ago. It was inspired the artwork of Richard Sirios--a.k.a. Lionheartcartoon--and the fanfics of Cowboy, who is a superhero geek--like me--and who has written a Captain America-Kim Possible fusion and a Spiderman-Kim Possible fusion.

But as the snowball rolls downhill, it keeps gathering more stuff. Is this good or bad? It's all up to what the reader thinks.

I will confess. This story has gone in strange directions. The thing with Richard Harte as a knight--I dunno. It's getting away from me. And for someone who writes glacially slow, that's trouble.

But, on with the show.

Kim, Ron, Mr. & Mrs.Dr.P., Wade Load, Erik, Middleton, Upperton, Dr. Drakken, the Tweabs, Bonnie Rockwaller, the Diablos, Bueno Nacho, Yamanuchi, the Lotus Blade, etc. are all from the Disney show created by Bob Schooley and Mark McCorkle, and produced by Chris Bailey (season 1) and Steve Loter (seasons 2-4).

Mary Jane Watson is from Spiderman (Marvel) Comics and was created by Stan Lee and Steve Dikto.

Richard Leo Harte and Daphne Mei Harte are my creation, inspired by Richard and Helen Lionheart, the creations of Richard Sirois, inspired by himself and his real life sister, Helene.

Cynthia Larsen is also my creation.

Solarstone, I can entirely appreciate where you're coming from. My man Mr.Dr.P. (the fanwriter, not the char) took strong issue with the inclusion of the OC, the non-canon char. And the critique of minimizing Ron is well-put. As I have said elsewhere, I have hardly seen the series--& I don't have cable or satellite TV, so I must rely on the kindness of friends who tape the shows for me, and what I can glean from the fanart, screencaps, and show dialogue found at various sites, like tv-dot-com. I estimate I have seen maybe 20 eps by now--which is still like the tip if the iceberg. I must confess, there _is_ a lot of commendable arising out of Ron--and you must confess in all fairness a lot of dumber-than-a-sack-of-crap behavior. But I always appreciate even the adverse conversant opinion--which yours is.

Harsh--fugetabout.

Actually, I thought the "knight in armor" vision was inspired. But then, I am just another Mercutio, who, as Shakespeare says in Romeo and Juliet, loves to hear the sound of his own voice. Alas, I must warn you--and Mr.Dr.P.--the involvement of my OC will only get worse. Sorry. Truth in advertising. Always hate to lose a reader, esp. one who likes my style. (I am such a slut for literary praise.)

whitem, yes, growth is painful. And that's why in part this story is taking so long. Little bits are dribbling into my head all the time. (Same with Say Something, Ron, and the Narnia story.) Rye.bread loves drama--and he also wants to be realistic emotionally.

Cajunbear 73. YES. You have hit upon it. The Guenevere-Arthur-Lancelot dynamic is exactly what I am aiming for in the whole Richard Harte story cycle. (See Kim and The Lionheart)

_**CHPT. 5**_

Mrs. and Mr.Dr.P. sat in their living room. She was reading her medical journal and he was reading the newspaper.

"Annette?" Mr.Dr.P. asked, "Where's Kimmie tonight?"

"With friends," said Mrs.Dr.P. absently.

"Friends? Not just Ron?"

"No. She's gone to Bueno Nacho with Ron and the two new members of her team."

"Aren't you two going to New York?"

"Yes...in the morning..."

"In the morning?" Mr.Dr.P. was somewhat taken aback. "I'm surprised Kimmie isn't home packing--as particular as she is about clothes."

Mrs.Dr.P. nodded.

"Annette--you seem so distant--so sad."

Mrs.Dr.P. sighed. "I had hoped that our Kimmie would jump at this opportunity--to do what she likes to do. Participate in athletic competition. Wear stunning fashion. Meet Mary Jane Watson."

"And?"

"I forgot to tell her. She was met today in school by Mary Jane. Blindsided, by the sound of her voice when she called me."

"Well, I could see how our daughter might be momentarily 'tweaked', as she would say. But Kimmie can be so starstruck. Didn't the prospect of being on TV with a famous actress excite her?

"Apparently I underestimated her passion for Ron. It's outgrown her passion for fame and fashion

And Ron can't go--or won't go. Tomorrow is his first day as manager of the newly refurbished Bueno Nacho. It seems that both our daughter and her young man have attained a profound emotional maturity in the past few weeks. Ron is committed to his new job--and for it's Kimmie's sake, mind you. He sees this as a valuable vocational formation--preparing to be a future provider.

Mr.Dr.P lifted an eyebrow. "This is Ron Stoppable--our Ron--who freeloads quite shamelessly and cribs off our daughter."

Mrs.Dr.P. nodded. "And Kimmie is as committed to remaining in her boyfriend's immediate vicinity--at the expense of foregoing the chance to excel in a competitive event, procure more expensive attire that she could ever afford, and in all likelihood even hobnobbing with young male celebrities."

Mr.Dr.P lifted two eyebrows. "Our Kimmie. Who has the eye of the tiger every time she squares off against a rival cheer squad. Who scrimped and saved and wrangled me for more money every time an item with a designer label appeared in the store window--even though she had an identical item at home in he closet. Who practically went catatonic at the thought of meeting the O-Boyz."

Mrs.Dr.P. nodded vigorously as her husband rattled off their daughter's obsessions--make that former obsessions. "And the most astounding thing is, I can't for the life of me decide which to attribute these world-class changes to--their involvement with each other, or their involvement with their new teammates."

"Tell me about these new teammates," asked an inquisitive Mr.Dr.P. "I must confess I'm quite in the dark. I thought all the drama was done once Kimmie resolved her romantic crisis with that android of Drakken's, and she and Ron became a firmly entrenched couple. Although, I will confess, as a father, I was less than conscientious when I consider how highly I regarded the young--er--'man', Erik."

"We both needed to wake up and smell the coffee, dear. Kim has undergone profound changes in her life--more than are apparent." Mrs.Dr.P took a long breath. "Do you remember Mamie Harte?"

"Mariah Bess Harte. Your patient--the terminal illness. You went to Japan for her funeral." Mr.Dr.P. frowned in concentration. "You know--I'm recalling--how much--how shall I put it? How much coincidence--or fate--played a part in your relationship with her. Children the same age--twins, if I remember. You showed me some of her letters to you. I was impressed with how composed she was. It was like reading something philosophical. Like my old friend Nicolas Fashir."

"Then prepare yourself for more coincedence, dear," said Mrs.Dr.P. flatly. "Those two children are Kim and Ron's new teammates."

Mr.Dr.P. was astounded. "Mariah Bess's children? Attending Middleton? Has Kimmie known them all along? Are they capable of--doing missions? Or are they--I'm trying to say it kindly--more like Ron?"

"Oh, they're quiet capable. They've been doing missions for as long as Kimmie and Ron have. But it's been quite surreptitious. These two apparently behave like high school students did in the 1950's. They hardly drew a second look from Kim. The most remarkable thing about them, outside of their scholastic excellence and scrupulous behavior, is how well they seemed to hide in plain sight. They were virtually friendless. And they were the target of a one-girl campaign of innuendo and harassment by Bonnie Rockwaller. She made fun of them for their faith--and especially the sister's absolutely chaste lifestyle."

Mr.Dr.P. grinned slightly. "Sounds like someone who might have a good effect on Kimmie."

"James Timothy! You sound so--prudish!"

Mr.Dr.P. hemmed and hawed. "Well--I'm just saying--Kimmie's affinity for crop tops--and her obvious public displays of affection with Ron--I wouldn't mind if she were a little more--conservative."

"Shame on you! Our daughter is a model of chastity compared to a good many of her classmates!"

"I know. I'm sorry, dear. I'm just being--you know--a father." He sighed. "So tell me--was this a match made in heaven, this merger of two disparate groups of do-gooders?"

"I'm afraid not. Kimmie took the blame for the gossip that Bonnie was generating. It's been a state of repressed hostility between her and the other girl--Daphne--since sophomore year. And the boy--Richard--took the trouble to introduce himself to Kimmie on the day of the Prom."

"How did that go?"

"More of the same. He tried to voice his suspicions about Erik to her. She ignored him. And he got her attention in the least advisable way."

"Which is--?"

"By 'tweaking' her, as she would say. He called her 'K.P.'--in public."

Mr.Dr.P. tried to stifle his chuckle. "Sounds like a kid with backbone."

"Kimmie threw a fit. It sent the other students running for cover. Erik nearly started a fight with Richard later."

James Timothy Possible smiled broadly. "Annette! This is fascinating! Why haven't I heard this?"

She sighed. "For the same reason no one else did. We were preoccupied with Kimmie's attachment to this golden boy Erik, and Ron's emotional meltdown."

He frowned again. "Oh, my. And I thought that boy 'had it going on', as I said. Guess he was too good to be true. How could have I missed it?"

"Don't worry, dear. We all did. It wasn't until their trip to England that Kim found out everything. Richard had also approached Ron the day of the Prom--about joining Team Possible. And Ron said to forget it; the Team was history. Ron was going to hang up his mission suit. And Richard divulged that it was for the express purpose of joining Team Possible that he had enrolled in Middleton several years before. He had only been biding his time--waiting for the opportune moment."

Mr.Dr.P. stared with keen interest. "This is getting interesting. Go on."

"The upshot is Kimmie became an international crusader in the eternal battle against evil because of her website and her babysitting. Richard and Daphne became crusaders for a more elemental reason: inspired by their mother's death as the result of a terrorist act, they have dedicated themselves to fight for decency, law, and order."

"Sounds very Lone Ranger-ish."

"Kimmie responded the way she responds to all rivalry--whether it's cheerleading supremacy against Bonnie Rockwaller, or performing missions."

"That's our daughter--my Kimmie-cub--my little overachiever. How was she prevailed upon?"

"That's the strangest part of the story. It seems that Daphne Harte and Wade Load have a common thread. Both lost a parent as a result of violence."

"Wade? I had no idea!"

"No one did. Wade's cheerfulness is a sign of how thorough his emotional recovery is. He's served Team Harte in much the same was he's served Team Possible--as computer and technical resource."

Mr.Dr.P. drew a long breath. "Annette, you're quite right. It almost seems that Fate has played a guiding hand. And these are the two that Kimmie has deferred to in trying to make the decision of whether to go with you to New York. And all this is why you're so sad."

Annette Possible sighed. "I'm feeling sad--and a bit threatened. The children of my dearest friend appear suddenly and seem to exercise so much influence. It's almost like Erik all over again."

"Is that fair, dear?"

"I don't know--and I won't know until Kimmie comes home."

Kim had come home glum from Bueno Nacho. Sitting behind Ron on his scooter, she hugged him like she would never let him go. They hugged and kissed as a teenage couple would who were about to be separated.

"Oh, God, I'm so gonna miss you," she whispered to Ron as she hugged harder.

"It's not like I'm moving back to Norway," whispered Ron, "Or going to summer camp." They kissed, and he asked, "Hey. Do we even know how how long this will be?"

Kim puppy-pouted. "I have no idea. How long does it take to film a game-show series? A week? A month? The entire summer vacation?" She frowned. "Hell! This is stupid! I'm gonna tell Mom to cancel the trip. I'm gonna tell Mary Jane, thanks but no thanks. I'm gonna tell Rich to catch his 'tide in the affairs of men' and go back out to sea."

Ron grinned. "Hey, that's cute. 'Tide in the affairs of men.' Playing off his Shakespeare quote."

Kim pouted more. "Don't bring it up! Him and his quote for every occasion! Here's a quote: 'And we lived happily ever after!' You and me!"

K.P.--You sorta promised yourself and us you would go on this thing--for your mom's sake. Now listen: like I said, I'm not gonna punk out. Don't you punk out either! We're gonna have a lotta heavy decisions for the rest of our lives together, and some won't be so easy. Now we're gonna make it. We're gonna tough it out."

Fresh tears trickled down Kim's cheek. "God. I love it when you talk about our lives together. And I hate the idea of being apart!" She tugged on his collar and brushed away the stray hairs from his forehead. "Alright, Mr. Ron-dog with Rufus in his pocket and my heart in his hand. I'll step up. And you'd better love me like I was the Creator of all cheese tacos when I get back home!"

In answer, Ron lifted her off her feet and seemingly kissed the air out of her lungs.

"Ron Stoppable--you are the best damn kisser," she said breathlessly.

"I was gonna say the same thing about you," he said.

Kim's parents heard the front door open and close.

"Kimmie-cub?"

"It's me, Daddy."

"Ten minutes before curfew. I'm impressed."

Kim saw her mother's eyes. "Sorry to blow you off earlier, Mom. Of course I'll go."

Mrs.Dr.P. jumped up and hugged her daughter. "Oh, Kimmie! Thank you! It'll be the trip of a lifetime! We'll have such fun!" Maybe that was a slight exaggeration, she told herself.

Kim returned the hug weakly. "I hear Panda-Roo calling. 'Night, Mom. 'Night, Daddy."

"Goodnight, Kimmie-cub."

It would be a short night and an early morning at the Possible household. She packed for the trip before she went to bed. Of course. Kim was organized with a capital "O".

Not that she would have to take much. She would bring more clothes than she went with--more clothes than she owned. She would double or triple her wardrobe. Bonnie would so jell. Designer labels and accessories

But that hardly mattered. She didn't want clothing now. She wanted to be in Ron's arm and at Ron's side. How strange. The difference a few weeks could make. Only a few months ago, she wanted a Prom Date, a hottie, a hunk.

But then she heard the words of Ron Stoppable that proved to be prophetic. "There's someone for you--out there--in here." And it uncovered a hunger in her that she didn't know she had. She hungered for the presence of a friend, a lover. Not someone hot. Not someone buff and sculpted and ripped. Not someone whose arms were bulging with biceps. But someone whose arms were comforting, whose heart was true. It was a physical yearning, almost an ache. She cuddled Panda-Roo and wished it were Ron.

Her mom was dragging her across the country. And Kim felt resentment for it.

Bonnie would laugh at her. "Kim the loser," she would say, "Stuck on the other loser and the stuffed animal."

Did Bonnie crave affection, too? She should, with what she had for a family. Two sisters, as slithery as serpents. And a mother as feather-headed as a pillow.

Or a series of surrogate fathers

Kim had to admit. The Tweebs had their faults. But she loved her brothers to death.

Suddenly her mother's desire to reconnect didn't seem so strange anymore.

This was hopeless. Kim was too wired to sleep. She went to her bookshelf and pulled off an old Upperton High Yearbook. She thought she remembered something. It was from her freshman year.

Kim had just joined the Cheer Squad--and was not yet Captain. The first game of the season was away, at Upperton. Kim had met the Captain of the Upperton Cheer Squad, Cynthia Larsen, a junior. They had hit it off. And when Upperton came for the home game at Middleton, the friendship was cemented. They traded yearbooks as a token of the friendship.

Kim looked up the freshman class and read the names. There it was. Daphne Harte. Daphne was smiling, which she rarely did in real life. Daphne had considerable good looks. With only a little time and trouble and a change in makeup and wardrobe she could be breathtaking beautiful--a real hottie. .

But Kim reflected. That wasn't what Daphne was interested in. She already dressed well. The last thing Daphne would ever consent to was a change in clothing that would make her a hottie.

Kim looked up Richard Harte's picture. It was a plain and simple face. A face that looked harmless. A friendly enough face.

Kim suddenly remembered the rumors. Cynthia Larsen dating a freshman. Cyndi was everything that Kim admired, everything that Kim would one day be herself. Cheer Squad Captain, Student Council President, Honors Society President, Yearbook Editor, Swim Team, Archery Team, Gymnastics Team, all-A student--Cyndi would have been class Valedictorian. Cyndi was the kind of person who could have gone into any profession. Politician, physician, scientist--Cyndi was another girl who could do anything.

When Kim and Cyndi had met, she found, that unlike Bonnie Rockwaller, Cyndi was warm and friendly. She gave Kim a few pointers, both about cheerleading and about school in general.

"Boys are drawn by looks," Kim had said, "And then are scared off by brains."

Cyndi had laughed. "Sure, I like boys as much as anyone. I like shopping. I like having money." Cyndi's family was wealthy. "I want to date, and marry someday. But friends--friends are what matter."

Kim remembered something. She went to her scrapbook and looked it up. Yes. There it was. The picture taken at the Middleton Home game. Her freshman year. The rumor had grown by that point. Cyndi had fallen in love. Not dating. Not crushing. But genuine love--with a freshman. A kid named Richard Harte. And she endured all the hassle and ridicule. "Robbing the Cradle", "Freudian Mother Complex".

Kim grew very attached to Cyndi. So full of genuine concern. Not like Bonnie, all surface. Cyndi was someone Kim would be proud to call a real friend.

She looked again at the picture of herself and Cyndi. And over next to it was the group picture. The Upperton and Middleton Cheer Squads. Some of the girls had pulled their boyfriends with them into the picture. Kim had tugged on Josh Mankey's arm. And at the end of the lineup, Cyndi had snagged Richard Harte's arm.

And there it was. At one end of the group, with Josh and his easy smile, was Kim. On the other side of the picture, smiling uncomfortable, with Cyndi, was Rich. All that long ago.

Cyndi did in the first semester of her junior year what it took Kim two semesters to do in her junior year. "Stand by Your Man", the country-western song said. Cyndi had stood by her Rich, but it took Kim a little longer to stand by her Ron.

Cyndi had decided to go into media as a career, she told Kim. A correspondent. Covering compelling stories. Making people care. Making a difference. Sort of the same reason Kim started her website. To help people.

And then with numbing suddenness, it had ended. Cyndi was seen in the halls of Upperton High looking shell-shocked. The rumors flew again. The boy had gotten her pregnant. She had to leave school. It was her father's work that had taken her away. He was going overseas.

From what Kim knew of Rich, it was unlikely Cyndi was pregnant.

Kim got a message on her website--from Cyndi. "Saw your website. Read your mission log. This rules. And you rule. You're going to make a difference, Kim Possible. And when you meet someone, who you couldn't save the world without, be sure to keep an open door on your heart."

It was prophetic. Looking back on it, gave Kim chills.

Did Cyndi see in Rich what Kim saw in Ron? Did Cyndi see in Rich what Kim saw in Rich, that which both comforted and terrified her?

Kim looked at Rich's picture once more. Names whispered in her head. _Arthur. Camelot. Excalibur._ One name shouted itself. _Richard the Lionhearted_

Kim snapped the yearbook shut and dropped it on the desk as though it were red-hot. She leapt into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She already knew Ron's hidden side. _Yamanuchi. The Lotus Blade. The Mystical Simian Power_. She pictured Ron in a samurai's armor and Rich in knight's armor. What--and who--had she gotten herself involved with. Against her will, Kim felt herself being drawn into a higher destiny. She remembered for a moment the simpler days, when she was crushing on the O-Boyz.

This was silly. In a few moments the alarm would buzz. She would have to get out of bed and get ready for the departure flight. But for just these few moments, she need to feel warm and comforted. Kim needed to feel safe...

Kim dreamed--and saw Ron in the armor of a Japanese samurai and Rich in the armor of a European knight. They both knelt and drew the katana and the broadsword respectively.

"K.P.--a warrior with no Queen is like a taco with no cheese," said Ron the Samurai.

"He needs a lady--to inspire his deeds and rejoice his heart," said Rich the Knight.

"So we offer you our swords--" said Ron.

"--Our hearts--" said Rich.

"--Our entire lives," said Ron. Everything we have and everything we are."

"Kimmie," Mrs.Dr.P. called, "It's almost time for the cab to be here."

Kim awoke with a start. It took a moment to remember--school year was done. She was going to New York with her mother.

She had slept--and dreamed. Two men--two protectors--her two partners--her boyfriend and her team second-in-command--had pledged themselves to her, much like Rich had pledged himself to her in her vision--or hallucination--or whatever. Kim was just as puzzled as before. But her anxiety was relieved. She could do this--this trip--this time away from Ron.

And this whole mysterious thing with the chain of circumstances--Kim meeting Cyndi as she had joined Cheer Squad and begun her missions--Cyndi and Rich breaking up while Kim had begun her missions--Rich transferring to Middleton High as Kim was meeting Wade--the timing seemed to be just right. She could supposedly do anything--but figuring out this whole sitch that seemed to be under Someone's control--just not her own--that would take some time and effort.

_**To be continued**_


End file.
